#christmas tree village display

[roomselfcontain2]

Luxury new standard single room visit website Selfcontain house for rent pop standard home available now located at ada George off iwofe road in port Harcourt city rivers state nigeria.

[cgclarkphoto]

Window display Christmas Tree -  cg photography

[oneforthemunny]

candy caned |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you’re desperate to make eddie��s trailer more festive for the holidays. you bring over decorations, but eddie is only interested in one- a long, plastic candy cane.

apart of the twelve days of dom!eddie's christmas

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub themes, hints at brat tamer/brat themes. spanking with implements (candy cane lol). role play-ish?? not really established but kinda alluded to it a little. aftercare. minors dni, read at your own discretion.

A cloud of smoke left Eddie’s lips, corners of his mouth pulling up into a half lipped smirk. Your car propelled over the gravel of the trailer park’s makeshift road, a playful beep of your horn. Eddie gave a small laugh, the air in front of him clouding at the contrast. He could hear the droning of George Michael’s Last Christmas, muffled from your car stereo but a reminder of why you were here. 

Eddie bummed the cigarette when you turned off the ignition, the radio silencing but that didn’t stop you. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heeearrrttt.” Your door swung open, voice trilling out into the quiet, rainy park. Eddie grinned, shoving his hands in his utility jacket, starting down the groaning steps of his trailer. 

“But the very next day,” You wiggled your brows at Eddie playfully, a toothy grin on your face that made his chest fill with a surge of heat. “C’mon, Ed, you know it!” You pouted playfully. 

“Yeah, I do. Everyone on planet fuckin’ Earth knows it.” Eddie snorted, heavy work boots nudging your own Sorels. His hands found your cheek, pressing a soft, full lipped kiss to your warm skin. The nicotine on his breath made your head spin, melting into his touch. 

Eddie’s lips quirked, fighting back a smile. “Still not singing it, though.” He muttered, fingers squishing your cheeks together playfully, pivoting towards your trunk. 

The huff you gave did make him grin. “Such a Scrooge.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “No holiday spirit at all.” 

Eddie waited by the trunk, eyes shining in amusement while you unlocked your trunk. His eyes widened, gaping at you in disbelief. “You’re shitting me.” 

“What?” You frowned, reaching for the bundle of lights, tangled from the half-hearted place in your apartment’s pitiful storage. 

“Baby,” Eddie blinked, positively confounded. When you’d suggested bringing some decorations over, he expected a few knick-knacks, maybe a tiny tree. Not the trunk full of Christmas decor, looking like something straight out of a Macy’s display window he’d pass in the city. 

“There’s… This is a lot.” Eddie tried not to sound as horrified as he felt. 

You frowned at him over your shoulder, hauling the tote bag with your Zellers Christmas Village in it over your arm. “You said you didn’t have anything.” 

“I don’t.” Eddie nodded, scanning over the tubs- tubs, plural- of ornaments. “But-But you didn’t have to bring all of this. What about your place?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly. “I barely stay there.” It was true, you’d slowly migrated into Eddie’s space over the months, staying more and more. “And you have more space. More decorating room.” The smile you gave him was bright, dazzling and excited. 

Eddie’s was… less enthusiastic, a mix between a grimace and dread. Still, he grabbed the box of stacked ornaments, the glass rattling as he walked up the stairs, following your giddy steps into the trailer. 

“No! Not so close to the edge!” You shrieked, Eddie nearly dropping the snowman figurine in his hand. 

He’d been a good sport, he really had. Eddie didn’t complain when you handed him the tangled lights. He kept his snarky comments to himself when you had him fluff out the tree branches to the plastic tree. He’d come close to snapping when you busted out the Elvis Christmas album, but he didn’t- he tuned it out, focused on anything else. 

The trailer was transformed, a Christmas wonderland, complete with the final touches of the snowmen and Santas on the window ledge. You pushed the snowman back, tilting it to your satisfaction, nodding with approval. 

Eddie let you. The two of you had established a ‘system’- he’d put it out, and you went behind him and fixed it how you wanted it. “What about these, baby?” Eddie hummed, picking up the bundle of plastic, long candy canes. “These go on the tree?”

“No,” You shook your head, placing the last figurine on the window. “They go outside. We can do them when it’s not raining.” 

Eddie turned the candy canes around in his hand, thin and spindly, intertwined plastic red and white that were long. He pulled one out by the hook, shaking it gently- testing it. Eddie brought it down, the swoosh whistling just barely over the music from his boombox. 

“Don’t break them.” You frowned, twisting an ornament so it faced forward. “Just put them to the side. We can do them tomorrow if you want.” 

Eddie stayed quiet, brows pinched together, tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek. You paused, watching him carefully as he studied the cane. 

“You know what?” Eddie hummed, his eyes still on the red and white cane in his hand. “I think I have an idea.” 

“What?” You looked at him, scanning the room for any spare place for the decoration. 

“I can think of something better to do with this.” Eddie’s lips curled, intriguingly dark. “It would really get me in this whole most wonderful time of the year mood.” His tone animated, dark and mocking the way it was when he played DND with his friends, when they were about to be presented with a dangerous risk of a choice. It made your heart skip.

“What?” You repeated, brow quipping, waving your hand for him to continue. 

Eddie’s eyes lit up, twinkling with excitement under the glow of the colorful strands on the tree. He lifted the cane, cutting it through the air with a satisfied swish!, holding your gaze with a darkened look of desire. 

Your tummy flipped, heat rushing through your core, thighs pressing together at the insinuation. 

Eddie lifted a brow. “Think you need it. Probably on the naughty list. Aren’t ya, baby?” He purred, spinning the cane in his hand. You squirmed under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. 

“‘M not.” You shuddered, shrinking under Eddie’s greedy gaze. “I’ve been very good this year.” 

Eddie sucked in a dramatic breath through his teeth, stalking towards you until he was towering over you. “Hmm, that’s not what I heard, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, nose nearly touching yours. 

Your knees tightened, wobbling with excitement. “Good news is,” Eddie started, letting the candy cane slide through his hands, brushing over your own. “It’s not too late. Can correct you now. Teach you a lesson and make sure you’ll be extra good.” 

This wasn’t exactly what you were expecting after decorating. You had hoped the decor would maybe bring some holiday spirit to Eddie, and in a way… it did? 

“I want to be a good girl.” You squeaked, tiny and breathy tone that had Eddie’s cock twitching in his jeans. 

“Yeah? I can tell.” Eddie nodded, hands clamping around the plastic decoration. “I can make sure you are.” Eddie’s hand reached for your jaw, fingers splaying over your cheeks, pulling your gaze to him. “You just gotta ask me.” 

You whimpered behind closed lips, the throb between your legs growing and growing. Eddie tilted his head, curls silhouetted by the tree’s lights. He looked nearly angelic, so pretty- it was so deceiving. 

“C’mon,” Eddie rasped, thumb stroking over your cheekbone delicately. “Ask me to help you be a good girl.”

You squirmed in his touch, eyes casting down. His hand caught your jaw quickly, pulling your gaze to him. “Please…” You swallowed, heart thumping from the thrill of anticipation. “Please, help me be a good girl? I wanna be a good girl.” 

Eddie smiled, satisfied. A gentle, affectionate squeeze to your cheeks. “Alright, I’ll help you.” He nodded, stepping back from you. His arms crossed over his chest, candy cane in his left hand, dangling loosely in his grasp. 

“Strip for me.” Eddie nodded, tongue running down his cheek, taking in your frame. Your red sweater, cropped and positively festive. 

Your hands quaked with anticipation, unbuttoning your jeans carefully, shoving them so they pooled at your sock clad feet. Eddie watched you, leaning cooly against the couch, eyes roaming your frame until you were just in a high cut, cotton thong and lacy bra- his favorite. He had helped you pick it out, snuck in the dressing room when the snobby lingerie store manager stepped away so you could model it for him. 

You looked at him, arms down by your sides, the way he’d taught you to. Eddie lifted a brow, head bobbing at you. “C’mon, keep going.” 

“All of it?” You whined. “Eddie, can I keep my panties on please? You know I hate the cane-” 

“-All of it.” Eddie snapped firmly. “You wanna be good? You’re not acting like you wanna be good. Still acting like a brat. Still acting like a naughty girl.” 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, lip jutting out in a pout that had Eddie’s abs clenching at the throb in his cock. You knew what you were doing, giving him your most pitiful, pouty look to drive Eddie wild. It was working. 

Eddie’s brow lifted, a final warning that he was done arguing, eyes flicking down to your panties, heart skipping when your fingers hooked around them, pulling them slowly down your legs. 

Your hands found your sides again, palms twitching with excitement, smoothing down the top of your bare thighs. Eddie waited until your eyes lifted to his, holding your gaze for just a touch too long- long enough to have you squirming with anticipation. 

“Bend over the couch for me. Hands in front.” Eddie nodded, his voice dropping into that dark rasp it always did when he’d step into this domineering role with you. 

The faded green carpet lacked it’s usual softness, coated with glitter from the decor and you hadn’t got a chance to vacuum yet. The usual crocheted blanket was folded over the arm of the couch, a reindeer throw pillow next to it. You set the pillow in front of you, so you’d have something to grab onto, bending over the arm of the couch. 

Your eyes stayed forward, Eddie’s hum of approval muffled out by his heavy soled footsteps moving closer to you. “Hm, how many strokes does a naughty girl deserve?” Eddie sighed animatedly. He was putting on a show for you, for him too. 

“What do you think?” Eddie tapped the side of your hip lightly with the cane, dragging the cool plastic over your ass.

You shuddered, the hook of the candy cane ghosting over the crack of your cheeks. “I don’t know, sir.” You grit, eyes closing, fighting the quake in your voice. “Three?” 

“Three?” Eddie scoffed, halting his movements, the hook side of the cane pressed against the fatty flesh under your ass. “Try again, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t know.” You whined, toes wiggling into the carpet. You were throbbing, dizzy with the desire for Eddie to touch you, spank you, fuck you- do something to you. 

“Hm, better watch it, naughty girl.” Eddie hissed, eyes narrowed in on your ass. He pressed the cane up, lifting your cheek so he could sneak a peek at your puffy lips, already slick with your own arousal. “Can see why you got on the naughty list. Little bratty thing, aren’t ya?” 

“‘M not.” You pouted, chin dropping into your outstretched arms. 

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.” Eddie tsked, the cane moving closer and closer to your pussy. “And I think you should get a stroke for every month you were naughty this year. Twelve.” 

You squirmed, hips wiggling and rocking in place. Eddie grinned, smoothing a hand over your spine. You jumped, relaxing under the familiar touch. “How’s that sound?” Eddie muttered, tapping your shoulder blade gently. 

You turned back, chin hooking on your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Twelve?” Eddie asked, his hand still rubbing over your spine soothingly, like he did every night to lull you to sleep. 

It made your heart swell with a warmth that had your cheeks burning with tingly heat. “Yeah.” You whispered, squeaking at the small squeeze Eddie gave your hip. 

Eddie’s hand rubbed back down your spine, setting the candy cane on your upturned ass, shedding his sweatshirt slowly. “Think you’ll remember to be good this year after this?” Eddie questioned, tossing his sweatshirt on the chair behind him. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You know what happens next year if you’re not good, right? If you’re on the naughty list again?” Eddie grabbed the cane slowly, dragging it over your ass and thighs. 

“No, sir, I don’t.” You choked out, clenching the pillow in front of you. 

“You get double.” Eddie said surely, bringing the cane down behind you. You felt the air on your skin, knees tightening with expectancy, the lingering threat looming closer and closer. “After that, I’ll just have to come down here every month. Cane you and make sure you get a monthly reminder to be good.” 

You whined behind closed lips, hips lifting at the threat. Eddie grinned, lining the candy cane up to your ass. “And believe me, if I have to come down every month, take time outta my schedule to teach you a lesson, I won’t be as nice as this. You better consider yourself lucky this time. Better learn from it.” 

“I will.” You panted, arms shaking from how hard you were clenching them. “I’ll be good from now on. I promise.” You sounded so sweet. Tone so airy and pouty and adorable, that tone that made Eddie’s vision blurry with desire. 

“Good.” Eddie nodded, tapping the cane against your ass. “I’ll make sure of it. Count ‘em out for me, baby.” 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The cane pulled back, a whoosh! filling the air before it was snapping into your skin, a biting sting from the plastic spreading in a line across your cheeks. Your hips jumped, a tiny huff of a whine leaving your lips at the shock. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the wooden cane Eddie used in the past, but still uncomfortable. 

“One,” You breathed out through gritted teeth. 

Eddie lined up the cane again, higher this time, before it was pulled back and sailing onto your bare skin, harder. Hard enough to have your head snapping up, toes bouncing off the carpet. 

“Two!” You squeaked, Eddie’s hand on the small of your spine to steady you. 

He watched you carefully. If this was the normal cane, you’d be crying by now- sniffly in the least. He lined it up lower, where your ass met your thighs. He lifted his hand, bringing the cane down with the type of strength he used with his hard soled slipper, hard and quick, pulling the sound he was looking for right out of you. 

The yowl, punched straight out of your core, back arching and hips wiggling away. “Ow! Ow! Three!” You hissed, a white knuckled grip on the pillow. Your nose burned, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes now, the sting was searing now, leaving a sizzling sting that had you bouncing from foot to foot. 

Eddie smirked in satisfaction, stilling you again with his hand firm on your lower back. “You learning your lesson?” Eddie grunted, the candy cane falling back down again, that white line imprinting your skin before disappearing, your cry following like clockwork. 

“Yes!” You whined, and the petulant, bratty foot stomp that followed had Eddie’s cock lurching. “Four!” 

“You’re gonna be really good this year, aren’t ya?” Eddie growled. 

Swish! 

“Yes! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” You groaned, a watery, pathetic wail. “Five!” You bounced from toe to toe over the couch, hips shaking like you could possibly shake the sting out that way. The ache between your legs was blinding, rivaling the sting growing furiously on your backside. 

Another stroke came before you were ready, quicker than the last time but just as unforgivingly searing. You cried out, a bubbling sob that tore from your throat. “You gonna make me do this again? Gonna be on the naughty list again?” 

“Noooo,” You cried out. Your face rubbed against your arms, snotty cries from a burning nose and throat that you tried to soothe. 

“What number was that?” Eddie tapped the cane lightly against you. 

“Six.” You muttered, so pitifully sweet it made Eddie’s heart burst. The sniffle that followed was even more piteous, wet and snotty and somehow still bratty. 

“Hm, ‘s not lookin’ great, baby.” Eddie teased, the cane snapping against your sore skin. “Already forgettin’.” 

“Se-even.” You sobbed, head pressed into your arms, slack over the couch. 

Eddie was nearly drooling, watching the way your hips rocked onto the arm of the couch for friction, catching glimpses of your pussy. 

“You wanna be on the nice list.” Eddie nodded, striping you again right across the middle of your ass.

“Eight.” 

 “You know what nice girls get?” Eddie pressed, watching your shoulders shudder before he caned you, higher this time. 

“No!” You hissed, knees buckling and legs quaking after the hit. “Nine.” 

“Good girls who are on the nice list,” Eddie leaned forward, hovering over your squirming frame. “Get their pussies eaten out.” You whimpered, hips grinding down harder on the arm of the couch. “They get my tongue used on them as a reward for being so good.” 

“Please, Ed, please.” You babbled, throbbing, needy, and your mind already numbed with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and pain. “Please.” 

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Eddie tsked, shaking his head at you. “You haven’t been good.” His hand rubbed over the hot skin of your ass, tickling just above your hidden pussy, grinning at the whine you gave. You stomped, huffing into the couch. There she was, the little brat he loved to play with.

“If you were good,” Eddie grunted, swinging the cane back and forward into your burning skin. You wailed, hand slapping into the couch, clawing at the cushion to keep yourself from reaching back. “You’d get eaten out.” 

“T-Ten.” You whimpered, a pouty sound. Eddie could practically see your face- brows creased in a frown, lip jutted, tear stained cheeks and a runny nose. 

“I’d use my tongue on you,” Eddie purred. You whined, nasally and desperate, hips swiveling down for friction. “I’d make you cum over and over and over.” 

You gasped when the cane cut into your ass with an unforgiving snap, an inflamed imprint left in its wake.  “Eleven.” 

“I’d even let you sit on my face so you could grind down just like that.” Eddie teased, tapping your rocking hips with the cane lightly. “Let you do that on my face instead of on the couch, rubbing your pussy all over my couch like that when you’re getting spanked. Seems awfully naughty, if you ask me.” He tutted. 

Your toes curled, his words were cruel, teasing, made your body burn with embarrassed heat- yet you were so close. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna be very good this year. Don’t know if I believe you.” Eddie shook his head. “You’re supposed to be getting punished, not enjoying this.” 

“I-I’m not.” You panted, shaking your head furiously. 

“You’re not?” Eddie scoffed, setting the cane to rest on your ass. His hand dipped between your thighs, fingertips sliding through your sopping folds easily, smirking at the gasp that tore from your throat. 

Eddie’s finger sunk into your soaking hole, pumping in and out at an agonizingly slow pace that had your head lifting, eyes pinched in pleasure. You were close, he could feel it, feel it in the way you clenched and strangled around his finger. He pulled away just as quickly as he put them in, your eyes flying open at the loss. 

“What-” 

“Look at this,” Eddie commanded, his fingers coated with your sticky arousal, pointer and middle finger spreading, webs of your slick forming with ever widening of his fingers. “You think someone not enjoying this would have that? Hm? Look at it.” 

Your cheeks were scorching with heat, lifting your gaze shyly to his dangling fingers in front of your face, shaking your head lightly. 

Eddie hummed in satisfaction, pulling his hand back, wiping your release over your burning ass. You yelped, jumping at the burn of his touch on your sore skin. Eddie’s lips curled, grabbing the candy cane off your hips. 

“Last one.” Eddie muttered, lining the festive decoration up against your skin, tapping gently. “You ready, baby?” 

“‘M ready.” You sighed, cheek pressed into your outstretched arms. 

Eddie was sure he was about to bust at the sight of you- glassy eyed, sniffling lightly, whimpering with every roll of your hips. Oh, it was too fuckin’ much. 

Eddie brought the cane down hard- hard enough he thought it might snap in half. The final blow that had you gasping, a strangled whine huffing out of your chest in a gasping heave before your body tensed, quivering at the sensation the impact left. 

“T-Twelve.” You whimpered, cheek pressed against your arm, so spacy in ecstasy you were dribbling out of the corner of your mouth. 

Your ass was stinging with that itchy, red-hot irritation that had you desperate to rub it out, only you knew it would only make the ache worse. You were throbbing between the legs, slick and frustrated, desperate for him to touch you. 

Eddie’s hand skated in a feather light touch over your ass, passing so delicately over each of your lips, coated with your own slickness. “You learned your lesson?” Eddie hummed, swallowing the spit that filled his mouth at the sight of you, presented so perfectly over the arm of the couch for him- for him to fuck you. 

“Ready to be a good girl? Be on the nice list?” His hand didn’t stop, sliding down the inside of your thigh, pushing lightly so you’d spread your legs. 

“Yeah,” You sighed, airy and a little pouty, cheek still pressed to the couch pillow. 

“Yeah? Look at me, baby.” Eddie patted your thigh gently, hovering over you. 

You blinked, looking up at him with sweet, glassy, rounded eyes. “You alright?” Eddie asked, scanning your features carefully, testing the waters of where you were. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, lip jutting ever so lightly. “I’ll be good now.” 

“I know you will.” Eddie nodded. “Are you alright? You with me, baby?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, shimmying your body so it contorted and angled towards him. “I’m ready to be good, so you can fuck me now.” The bluntness of your words mixed with the light, breathy tone, so deceivingly sweet- it made Eddie’s head spin. 

“Yeah?” He grinned, dimples creasing. “I was gettin’ to that, baby.” 

“You can get to it now.” You hummed, slipping out of that hazy fog that he always got you in, back into your bratty ways. Eddie’s lips twitched, biting back a smirk. “‘M ready for it. I’ll be really good this year.” 

“Alright, you earned it, I guess.” Eddie teased, pulling you by the small of your waist back up the arm of the couch. “How you want me, babe? This good?” 

“Yeah, just let me-” You snatched the pillow in front of you, pushing it under your chest. “Ready.” 

“You sure are, holy shit.” Eddie muttered, eyes glued to your parted thighs, your sopping cunt making his head reel  at the sight. “You gonna be a good girl? Be my good girl?” 

“Yes,” You whine, hips wiggling back further to him. “I’ll be good, so good, please.” 

Eddie slipped two fingers into your sopping hole, pumping in and out just as slow as before. Your toes curled, body jolting with that euphoric, white hot bolts of pleasure. A small whine, quiet but pathetically desperate slipped from your lips. 

Another whine followed, huffier this time, more demanding. “Alright, alright, I gotcha.” Eddie gritted, pumping his shaft slowly, smearing his own pre-leakages over his head, down his shaft. “I gotcha. Relax, baby.” 

Your vision blurred at the feeling of him pushing into you, that achingly familiar stretch, your walls tightening with every slow roll of his hips further and further into you. Your ass was raw with the still fresh strokes of the cane, Eddie’s hips and groin snapping into the irritated skin with a purposeful punch of his cock inside of you. 

Tears brimmed your eyes, of pleasure or pain or both, you weren’t really sure. The sensation was enough to have you mindless, cheek smushed into the couch cushion, whimpering. “Fuck, you gonna be my good girl? Be my-my nice girl?” Eddie hissed, eyes half-lidded, hypnotized by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock with every roll of his hips. 

“Yeah.” You whined, a ghosting of a whimper tailing on your words. 

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted in a mocking tone, fingers sinking into the fat of your hips. “Holy fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. You know that? ‘Course you know that. This feel good? Am I makin’ you feel good, baby?” His hand fell on your ass, a stinging hand print left in its wake on your already sensitive skin. 

You yelped, head snapping up at the impact, red manicured nails curling around the needlepoint pillow, grappling at the loopy stitches while Eddie plowed into you from the back. Fingers bruising your hips and waist from the way Eddie was using your body to fuck himself, until he finally halted, heavy breathing gasps of pleasure. He pulled out, a thick stream of his own release drooling out of you and towards the faded floral upholstery. 

Somehow, the lights on the trees and strung along the walls seemed brighter now, with you curled into his neck. Eddie blew the smoke away from you, towards the chilly night air that crept in from the open window. 

“I think I kinda get it.” Eddie muttered, a hand rubbing down your back soothingly, pulling you out of your post orgasm hazy state. You hummed, nuzzling into his chest, curling into his body for warmth from the breeze that swept in. “Get why you like all this stuff.” 

You lifted your gaze, eyes still glowing with the remnants of emotion, but rounding in the sweetest way. “Yeah? You gettin’ in the spirit, Munson?” You giggled softly. 

Eddie snorted lightly, rolling the cigarette between his pointer and thumb over the ashtray. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “You lettin’ me spank you with a candy cane really got me in the spirit, babe.” You laughed, head dropping to his shoulder, eyes batting up at his. 

The candy canes lined the path to Eddie’s trailer the next day. You helped him put them out in the freezing cold, occasionally rubbing your tender ass when he’d swish the decoration playfully, eyes dark and dazzling at you. One lone candy cane stayed inside, hanging on Eddie’s bedroom door knob to make it look more festive, or so he said.

[snowyslytherinowl]

The First Perfect Christmas

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader

SUMMARY: For the first time in Severus's life, he won't be celebrating Christmas alone. This time, he'll spend the holidays with you, his girlfriend. Since it's your favorite holiday, Severus tries to get you every Christmas gift on your wishlist. But when not all the items you want are available, Severus worries that he'll ruin your Christmas and disappoint you.

Warning: a very brief reference to child/domestic abuse and there's angst, but there's nothing intense. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and even if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day! I know I haven’t published in a while since my life has been busy, but I wanted to at least write something for the holiday season. Also, I tried my best to use British English terms (I know I didn’t use British spelling, though) but I may not have gotten them all since I’m ✨American✨.

*GIF isn't mine; credit to @smilingformoney

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape’s Christmas won’t be one of loneliness. He spent his childhood Christmases with his parents, but being with his parents was like being with no one at all. Every Christmas was the same; his father drank himself into a violent rage and his mother sat on the couch in silence. Severus envied the children who received the newest toys and ate warm meals beside a grand tree. At the very least, Severus wanted to spend time with his family even if there was no tree in the corner of the living room. Wasn’t Christmas time supposed to be full of holiday cheer and merry greetings? 

You are the only person who makes him feel happy during the holidays. He stuck his nose up at the Christmas decorations around Hogwarts and not a single tinsel could be found in his quarters. But when the clock struck midnight on the First of December, you required him to add some holiday cheer to his quarters. He placed a mini tree in the living room, hung stockings above his fireplace, and lined the doorframe to his bedroom with garland. The colorful ornaments you gave him for the tree are a little too bright and tacky, but it doesn’t matter; he’d do anything to make you happy. 

On the other hand, you decked out your Hogsmeade cottage in the spirit of the holidays. A train chugs around a miniature Christmas village, the large tree displays red globes and floating snowflakes, and a beautiful snow globe with white horses rests on your mantle. The aroma of gingerbread cookies and plum cake wafts from your kitchen as Severus walks into your cottage. You peek into the living room from the kitchen and smile widely as you see him come in. 

“Come here!” you say enthusiastically to him, but you run towards him and pull him into the kitchen before he even has a chance to oblige. There are many baked goods on the counter, ranging from gingerbread cookies with iced smiles to a Yule log that actually looks like it was cut from a tree. Without warning, you shove something in Severus’s mouth and he almost spits it out from the surprise. 

“How’s the plum cake? I’m in between giving my neighbors a plum cake or a plum pie. They said they like anything with plums, but a pie and a cake aren’t the same thing. So, what do you think I should bake them?” You look at him expectantly as he chews on the plum cake. It is absolutely delicious; it’s moist and not too sweet. Severus swallows the last bite and is about to respond when your eyes widen and you gasp. “Oh wait! I forgot to give you the pie!” Once again, Severus almost chokes as you shove the plum pie into his mouth. 

“Now what do you think?” you ask him. Severus stares blankly at you. He doesn’t want to make the wrong choice and therefore disappoint you, especially since you’re looking up at him with expectant eyes. What if he chooses the cake and the neighbors deem it not moist enough? Or what if he tells you to bake the pie and the neighbors don’t like doughy desserts? It’s a minor decision to make, but he never wants to upset you; so, he chooses the sweet he likes more. 

“I prefer the cake,” Severus says, pointing at the dessert on the counter. You beam at him and wave your wand to pop another cake into the oven. 

“Thanks! Now why don’t you sit down on the couch and I’ll clean the kitchen up?” Before he can oblige, you gently push him out of the kitchen to immerse himself in the Christmas wonderland of your living room. 

Severus sits next to the arm of the couch and looks around the room as he patiently waits for you. He notices an open journal on the side table and leans forward to look at the top page. It’s a list of some sort: a snow globe, notepad, pillow, and Iridescent Ink. Every wizard knows what Iridescent Ink is and he thinks the ‘pillow’ is the one he saw you looking at in Hogsmeade. The snow globe on your list likely refers to the one featuring Diagon Alley with reindeer flying overhead. He remembers how you gushed over how cute the reindeer were and how magical Diagon Alley looked… Wait, is this supposed to be your Christmas wishlist? 

Severus’s head snaps to the snowman Christmas countdown, which lets him know that there are twelve days until your favorite holiday. Twelve days should be plenty to find all the gifts you want, but he still internally smacks himself for forgetting to buy gifts until now. 

He immediately straightens in his seat and rips his gaze from your journal when you enter the room, carrying two mugs of steaming liquid. You wrap your arms around him and Severus blushes crimson. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year now, Severus reacts the same way whenever you touch him. “I can’t wait to cuddle with you tonight. It’s been extra cold recently.” You rest your head on his shoulder and gaze up at him.

Yes, his thoughts about the pillow were definitely right. The pillow shapes itself around both sides of your body and adjusts when you move. He remembers how you teased him when you said, “I need something to cuddle with when you’re not here to be my body pillow every night.”

“I regret not being here to keep you warm every night, though you know that my responsibilities at Hogwarts are the only factors keeping me away from you.” Severus blushes again at your closeness and looks down. On the weekends, Severus stays overnight at your Hogsmeade cottage. You snuggle so closely and wrap your legs around his so tightly that your bodies are practically fused together. Although he isn’t particularly fond of being confined underneath your body, he does appreciate the warmth that envelopes him. “Even when I am slaving away under Dumbledore’s orders, you can always use a warming spell on nights like these.” 

“Mmm, but I prefer it when you keep me warm.” Any thoughts about the hot chocolate awaiting him on the table flee his mind when you cup his face and kiss him on the lips.

After a night of suffocating cuddles, Severus untangles himself from your arms and slips out of the bed. When you stir awake and attempt to pull him back into the bed, Severus whispers an excuse about needing to retrieve essays to grade. You press a wet kiss to his cheek, murmur a farewell, and fall right back to sleep. He’s thankful that your shift at Scrivenshaft’s is later in the day since you won’t catch him apparating to Diagon Alley. 

Stores in Diagon Alley have just opened when Severus apparates there. He heads straight for Scribbulus Writing Implements to buy Iridescent Ink for you. Rows and rows of ink line the shelves, making it impossible for him to find Iridescent Ink among colors like Eccentric Emerald and Plum Paradise. After he finds three jars, he heads for Rosa Lee Teabag. Even if you didn’t ask for tea on your wishlist, Severus still buys a box of your favorite tea. Then, a book with moving illustrations displayed in the shop window of Flourish and Blotts catches his eye. His cheeks burn when the cashier asks if it’s for his child, but his momentary embarrassment is worth it since you love books with colorful, detailed illustrations. Perhaps it could be passed on to his future child too. 

He remembers seeing your desired snow globe at Ethereal Embellishments Emporium. House-themed snow globes line the top shelf and snow globes with a crackling fireplace lie below. Severus’s brow furrows when he notices that the Diagon Alley snow globe is missing. Try as he might to scavenge through the store and rearrange the shelves, Severus can’t find it. 

Even when he asks the store clerk if there are any Diagon Alley snow globes in their inventory, his inquiry remains unsuccessful. She comes back with a box containing a snow globe in the shape of a lantern. A snowman and snowwoman hug each other and wave at the person outside the glass while snow falls around them. Severus frowns as he turns the snow globe in his hand. One reason why you like the Diagon Alley snow globe is because of the cute reindeer flying overhead, and this snow globe has cute snowpeople. Even though it’s nice, it isn’t the one you wanted. After handing it back to the store clerk, her thanks her for her time and leaves the store. 

Awkwardly standing in the middle of the street, Severus feels a sense of dread as he considers where else he can find that snow globe. Dazzling Decorations Depot and Hartigan’s Holiday House both sell Christmas decorations. Though when he visits the two shops, he finds out that Hartigan’s has sold out of snow globes and Dazzling Decorations Depot doesn’t even sell snow globes. 

His dread turns into panic. He only bought the Iridescent Ink, which can be bought at any stationery shop. The Hogsmeade store that sells the pillow is closed on the weekends. He’s afraid that if he purchases it on Monday, you’ll catch him walking back to Hogwarts with the pillow in hand. He can’t buy the notepad from Scrivenshaft’s either since you work there today and it’s closed on Sunday. The only other day you have off is Tuesday, but it may be sold out by then. 

Of course, Severus can gift you items other than what’s on your wishlist. But what if you get angry that he didn’t get you everything on your wishlist? What if you don’t like the gifts he’s chosen for you? Would this ruin your Christmas? Examining the contents of the shopping bags from Rosa Lee Teabag and Flourish and Blotts, Severus can't shake the thought that the items he purchased aren’t good enough for you. 

After returning to Hogwarts, Severus drops off what he bought and retrieves the essays he actually does need to grade. He returns to your cottage and sits at your kitchen table, grading the essays. Reading his students’ subpar papers on the properties of Wolfsbane Potion does nothing to distract him from his thoughts, especially as he hears the toot of the train chugging around the Christmas village. You decorated your cottage in the Christmas spirit, make him Holiday Blancmange every weekend, and send sweet notes to his office in Hogwarts Castle. Meanwhile, he hadn’t even thought to start buying gifts until yesterday. 

Severus’s eyes brighten as you return home from work, but his gaze holds a bit of sadness as he thinks about what a poor excuse of a boyfriend he is. You laugh as you close the front door and quickly hide something behind your back. “Give me a second!” you say enthusiastically to him and dash into your bedroom. He finishes marking an essay as he hears you rearranging items in your room. 

You come back into the kitchen and wrap your arms around him from behind. “How was your day, sweetheart?”

“It can only ever be average when I must read my students’ atrocious papers,” he drawls and rests his hand over yours. “How was work? You are slightly later than usual.”

“It was stressful and the store was packed with people throughout my entire shift. You know, with it being the holiday rush and all.” You lean forward and kiss Severus’s cheek. “But I got something special for you.”

Feelings of guilt eat away at Severus’s heart and his shoulders droop, but he tries to shake it off before you notice. “Oh? Where is it?”

“You won’t get it until Christmas, silly.” You laugh and playfully push him. “By the way, what do you want to do for Christmas? I was thinking that we could just stay in and cook together. Oh! And what do you want to eat? We must have roast beef and I’ll bake any dessert you want.”

Severus thinks you look the most beautiful when you’re excited about something. Your eyes shine, you smile widely, and you shake his shoulders as you go on about whatever makes you passionate. He doesn’t deserve you, especially when you look as beautiful as you do now. He just smiles at you and mumbles,  “Whatever you want, I will be happy with.”

After classes end on Tuesday, he walks down to Hogsmeade to buy the pillow and notepad. Lumos Living is swarming with customers when he walks into the store. Unfortunately for Severus, the shape-shifting body pillow is so popular that there are none on the shelves.

Severus’s pointer fingers pick on his cuticles as he approaches a store clerk restocking the shelves in the bedding section. “Do you have any of the shape-shifting body pillows in stock?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t. But we’ll restock on Friday morning, so you can come back and check on that day!” Great, just great. Yet another item on your wishlist that Severus can’t buy. He huffs and thanks the clerk as he stomps out of the store.

Scanning the streets of Hogsmeade, Severus ensures you’re not around as he makes his way to Scrivenshaft’s. Just as you described your shift on Saturday, the store is packed with wizards and witches alike. He hasn’t seen the notepad you want before, but he remembers how you described it to him after you came home from your shift several weeks ago. Every time you pull a sheet out, the next sheet morphs into a completely different shape and design. 

The notepad and notebook section isn’t as busy as the rest of the store. There are flying notepads, notebooks that you can have conversations with, and notepads in the shape of a twinkling Christmas tree. Severus thanks Merlin when he finds the notepad you described and snatches it off the shelf before anyone else has a chance to grab it. 

Severus walks toward the long checkout line with a slight pep in his step only to freeze as he catches sight of you. Tuesday is your day off; why are you even here? He ducks behind a table displaying a stack of notebooks as you turn to look in his direction. It doesn’t seem like you notice him since you calmly walk over to your coworker at the register. 

The two of you have a brief conversation before your coworker hands you something. When you start walking in his direction, Severus dashes from the table to the opposite side of the store. You press something inside the keyhole of a door, which he assumes leads to the stockroom, without spotting your boyfriend. 

Severus feigns interest in the limited edition holiday quills as he waits for you to leave. He slowly sorts through the boxes of Festive Featherflame Quills and pretends to look for the best quill. Another customer gives him an impatient look when he takes too long, so he awkwardly steps to the side. He turns around to look at the door to the stockroom, but you still haven’t emerged. 

“Sev?” Severus jumps and begins to pick at his cuticles at the sound of your voice. He quickly shoves both the Festive Featherflame Quill and the notepad to the side. His eyes dart to a door beside the quill section, which has just closed shut. Realizing that this door also leads to the stockroom, Severus internally curses himself for not noticing it when he sprinted over here. “What are you doing here?”

“I… well, I am in need of ink and a quill,” Severus attempts to say nonchalantly. When your eyes wander to the shelf behind him, he turns his body to hide the two items from your sight. 

“Okay…” you say and frown. “I just wish you bought it during my shift.”

“I apologize, my love, but I did not realize that I needed these two items until this morning,” Severus lies again, but feels a genuine twinge in his heart as you frown. “Further, why are you here today if you are not working?”

“I left my coat here last night.” You still look a little upset, but you peck a kiss on his cheek nonetheless. “I’ve got to run. See you in a few days, okay?”

With a sigh of relief, he watches the front door close behind you. He quickly retrieves the notepad he threw to the side and makes his way to the checkout line, which is even longer than before. 

A bell from the second register rings, beckoning the next customer in line. He recognizes the store clerk helping him at the register as Mary, your favorite co-worker and the reason why you two are together. One chilly day in late November, Severus popped into Scrivenshaft’s to buy jars of ink. You caught Severus’s eye as he searched for ink and he could barely string a sentence together when you helped him at the register. Under the guise of buying ink and quills, he visited the store every few days, secretly reveling in the opportunity to admire you and exchange a few words with you. After several weeks, his office stationery drawer overflowed with ink and quills, and Mary noticed how enamored he was with you. During every free moment of your shifts, she teased you about him and eventually convinced you to make the first move. 

“Severus, hey!” Mary says enthusiastically and louder than he would’ve wanted. Several other customers and employees glance at Mary and him. “How’ve you been? What are you getting today?”

“I am well. I would like this.” Severus hands over the notepad, causing Mary’s eye to twinkle. 

“This one is so cute!” she gushes. Then, something seems to click in her mind and she gasps loudly, of course. “Wait! This is the one that your girlfriend wants!” 

Severus looks around to see even more people looking at them, causing him to sigh. Keeping this purchase a secret from you is practically an impossibility at this point. “Mary, please quiet down. I do not want her to know that I am purchasing this for her,” he attempts to say calmly, but a hint of impatience leaks into his voice. 

Mary makes a zipping movement over her lips and smiles giddily. “Don’t worry! I promise not to say anything.” She scribbles down the item and price on a record and then looks back up at him. “That’ll be five galleons.”Swiftly handing over the coins, Severus leaves the store with the notepad clutched firmly in his hand. 

When his final class before lunch concludes on Friday, Severus shoos his students from his classroom and rushes down to Hogsmeade. He’s nervous that he won’t make it back to Hogwarts on time since the lunch period isn’t long and the village is full of cheery citizens participating in holiday activities. Though what makes him sweat is the possibility that Lumos Living has already sold out of all the shape-shifting pillows they restocked this morning. He can’t afford any more bad luck when it comes to gift-giving. 

But unfortunately for Severus, his already minimal good luck has completely drained. There are no more shape-shifting pillows, no matter how many times he ransacks the store and sticks his hands into the crevices between the shelves. He mutters curses under his breath and stomps back to Hogwarts for the final classes of the day, where the students note that he is in an especially foul mood. 

His only consolation after all classes end for the day is that the Christmas holidays have just begun, so he can spend two whole weeks at your cottage. His heart soars with excitement as he heads down to Hogsmeade, yet simultaneously sinks with self-disappointment for not buying everything you asked for. 

When you arrive home from your shift, you stomp the snow off your boots and joyfully display a bottle of eggnog in your hands. “It was a little expensive, but why not? It’s Christmas and I get to keep you here for two weeks!” you cheerfully say as you hand him the eggnog. Severus waves his wand and pours two glasses as you continue, “I was thinking of going caroling after my shift tomorrow and I know you don’t like it, so I won’t drag you along. But I’ll make up for my lateness tomorrow night with smoked salmon for tonight’s dinner, okay?”

“That sounds delightful, my love,” Severus says quietly and sips his eggnog. Turning over the bottle in his hand, he sighs at your sweet gesture, which he feels he is unworthy of. 

As you wave your wand to summon all the ingredients for tonight’s dinner, you turn to Severus and frown at him. “Is everything all right, sweetheart?” you ask, concern clear in your voice. 

Severus looks into your eyes and sees genuine worry. He can’t bear the thought of ruining your day, so he forces a small smile and pulls you close to him. “Do not worry. I am fine. My head is merely spinning at the thought of the potions I have to brew for my stores over the Christmas holidays. At least those pesky students will not give me headaches for the next two weeks.”

You smile back at him and nuzzle your nose against his. “And I’ll start making dinner so you can get your head off things. But I still expect you to make one of your special drink concoctions.” 

As the evening progresses and you eat a delicious dinner, he enjoys spending time with you and listening to you rave about what your friends plan to do for Christmas. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake up the feelings of guilt building inside him. 

As you head off for work and caroling the next day, he takes advantage of the time alone to do some final holiday shopping. The store clerks at Lumos Living inform him that the shape-shifting pillow won’t be stocked until after Christmas, so Severus resorts to buying a body pillow that changes temperature based on your body temperature. Pillow stuffed in a bag, he apparates to Diagon Alley to find the elusive snow globe. Neither can the Diagon Alley snow globe be found in any of the shops. After carefully inspecting all the other substitutes from Ethereal Embellishments and Hartigan’s, he decides to buy the snow globe with a ​​snowman and snowwoman hugging each other. At least you might appreciate the cheery, adorable faces of the snowpeople. 

As Severus wanders aimlessly around Diagon Alley with his store bags in hand, he ponders over whether to get you something from the surrounding stores. His memory flashes back to the first gift he gave you: a red glimmering potion that released tiny floating animals. Nothing has ever made him nearly as happy as when you threw your arms around him and gushed over it for weeks. Instead of buying other items at Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, he resolves to brew something similar to that potion. At least he knows you’ll like it. 

Upon his return to Hogwarts, Severus immediately sets up a large cauldron and assembles the required ingredients. Since it’s not an overly complicated potion, he adds extra details to make the gift even more special. Stirring the boiling water and dropping ingredients in as they’re required, he makes the potion sparkle green, gold, and red. After he waves his wand over photographs of you and him, the cauldron releases floating, moving images of the two of you. He smiles as two tiny figures float in the air: you and him standing in front of a zoo enclosure of mooncalves. 

He pours the finished potion into a large bottle and mulls over what else he should make using his potion skills. It may be too late to hang new ornaments on the tree, but Severus still decides to make liquid-filled ornaments for the following year. He prepares a potion similar to the one he made earlier, which also glimmers in the cauldron. Then, he transfigures clean potion bottles into the shapes of icicles and eggs and adds tiny, colorful glass pieces to design the eggs. Severus frowns as he inspects his uneven placement of the glass pieces on the eggs, but he hopes the ornaments still look enchanting enough as the potion swirls inside the glass. 

Over the next several days, you occupy almost every minute of Severus’s time. As a child, he never built snowmen or lay on the ground and made snow angels. Neither had he been brave enough to challenge the other children to a snowball fight or ride a sled down the small hill near his home. But when you two aren’t relaxing at your cottage or walking hand-in-hand at a Christmas event, you pull him outside and have fun in the snow. A snowman and snowwoman fashioned after the two of you still stand outside your front door, and Severus adjusts their twig arms so they continue to hold hands despite the harsh wind. No matter how many times you ride a sled together, his arms wrapped around your front remain stiff; yet when the two of you roll off the sled after crashing into something, he can’t help but crack a smile. And every evening that the two of you spend together, you walk through an enchanted Christmas wonderland the village of Hogsmeade has set up. Throughout all these festivities, Severus almost forgets how he’s failed in getting all the gifts you want. Almost. 

In the middle of the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Severus rushes to retrieve the gifts from Hogwarts and properly package them. With only a candle lighting up the room, Severus hunches over the kitchen table and waves his wand over the wrapping paper. The process of wrapping the Iridescent Ink, notepad, and potion gifts go smoothly. However, he pauses as his eyes roam over the snowpeople globe, temperature-changing pillow, box of tea, and illustrated book. Would it be better to not give you the second-best gifts or not give you a pillow or snow globe at all? Perhaps you would think he didn’t bother to find you everything on your list, so Severus reluctantly wraps up those two things. Along that same train of thought, he covers the box of tea and illustrated book with silver wrapping paper. Before he can overthink the gifts he’s wrapped, he waves his wand and sends them to rest at the foot of the tree. 

At precisely eight the next morning, Severus is shaken awake by you. He slowly opens his eyes and sees your eager face and messy morning hair right above him. “Wake up, Sev! Happy Christmas!” you squeal. You kiss him on the lips and scurry out of the room. 

Severus yawns and slogs out of bed. When he enters the living room, you run into his arms and kiss him. “When did you put all those gifts under the tree?” you ask excitedly. 

“When you were sleeping last night,” Severus says groggily and pulls you close to him. It’s an irrational thought, but he thinks that you might not open up his gifts if he holds you here all day. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and gaze adoringly up at him. “You know you’re the best boyfriend, right?”

He feels a twinge in his heart, but he forces a smile onto his face. “Do not flatter me, my love.” You laugh at him and gently push him away before he can hold you closer and prevent you from sitting under the tree. 

Severus holds his breath as you sort through the gifts, but then you pull out a package that he doesn’t recognize. You pat the floor next to you and hold the package above your head. “I want you to open all my gifts first.”

He takes the package from you and tenderly runs a hand over the green bow and red wrapping paper adorned with flying hippogriffs. Reluctant to rip away or lazily flick his wand over the wrapping you obviously put effort into, he slowly unties the bow and gently removes the wrapping paper. Inside is a packaged set of books on the Dark Arts, specifically rare volumes that he had expressed interest in several weeks ago. How did you even find these? How did you even remember that he wanted these? Severus looks up and notices the hopeful look in your eyes. He genuinely smiles at you and leans forward to kiss your cheek. “Thank you, my love. You are so very thoughtful.”

“Of course, Sev!” You turn to look for another gift and hand him a package even bigger than the last one. Again, you eagerly watch him as he carefully unwraps the gift. His mouth drops in awe as he uncovers the exquisitely crafted wooden box that serves as a travel potions case. The outside of the box is carved in the design of a tree and when he opens it, his name is engraved on the top section. Jars of potion ingredients are also stored inside the box, ranging from bat spleens to boomslang. You smile shyly at him and say, “I wasn’t very good at Potions, so I don’t know if those ingredients will be useful to you. But I did find a list of ingredients you’re running short of, so I bought those.”

Severus sets the box aside and embraces you. “No, no. This is the most beautiful trunk I have ever set my eyes upon and I am in need of all of those ingredients. You should not have done all of this for me,” he says quietly and his voice even breaks. His heart pounds wildly and his mind swarms with thoughts of how he doesn’t deserve this, how he doesn’t deserve you. You gave him this and the best thing he’s giving you is a silly lovey-dovey potion. Some tears form in his eyes and he quickly blinks them away before you notice them.

“Nope, I would get anything for you, Sev. I’m just afraid that the other gifts aren’t as nice as the last two,” you say as you rub his back. You pull away and summon a small present into your hand. “I know you like practical gifts, so I hope you like this one.”

Underneath the blue bow and icicle-themed wrapping paper, the clear box contains several red rubbers. You laugh as you spot the unintentional look of confusion on Severus’s face. “They’re Flubber Rubbers. I know you can’t usually remove the ink from your students’ essays, but these rubbers actually do remove ink and write encouraging comments in the margins. I thought these would help you stay more positive after Minerva scolded you for being too harsh.”

His cheeks burn and he glares at you, sending you into an even louder laughing fit. “I do not know if I should feel insulted or be grateful, though I suppose I can use these on essays that fall short of atrocious.” Internally, Severus is secretly very grateful that you would try to help him with his work as a professor. He takes in a deep breath and blinks, yet again fighting the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. How did he ever manage to make you, an angel, his girlfriend?

Your hands grasp onto a large box with a red and green bow on the top, but then you pull your hand back and pass him another present. “I also got this one from Scrivenshaft’s. I hope you don’t already have this one,” you say a little nervously. 

Severus cocks his brow as he unwraps the gift, pondering over what you meant by “I hope you don’t already have this one.” Almost every stationery item he owns is from Scrivenshaft’s since he wants to support the shop you work at, but he doesn’t buy unique stationery items. He mostly purchases black and red ink, basic quills, and journals. Perhaps this is a leatherbound journal?

Severus lifts the lid of the box. Inside is what he assumes is a limited edition Christmas quill. He doesn’t recognize the bird from which the feather was plucked, but the feather has been dyed a deep red and flutters to increase and decrease in size. It’s nice, but he wouldn’t choose Christmas quills over basic ones. Why did you get this? Then, it clicks in his mind. Last week, you spotted him in the limited edition holiday quill section at Scrivenshaft’s. You must have thought that he wanted one of those quills, especially the Festive Featherflame. 

His lip trembles and he frowns deeply as he holds the quill in the palm of his hand. You notice everything about him, from the wanting looks at potion ingredients to how he lingers around a particular corner of the Dark Arts section of bookshops for too long. Severus now thinks that he isn’t nearly as observant as you are. What if you clearly wanted something, but he didn’t buy it for you because you didn’t verbally express interest in it? How many items has he now missed out on buying? Out of all the things you’ve given him so far, the item he didn’t necessarily want finally forces the tears out of his eyes. Severus’s shoulders shake and he pinches the quill a little too forcefully in his hands. What an utter failure of a boyfriend he’s been.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” you ask quietly, but the concern is loud in your voice. You scoot closer to him and wipe the tears flowing down his cheeks. 

“No, it is not that. You notice everything about me and all of these gifts have been incredibly thoughtful,” he sobs. “Meanwhile, I could not even find you all the gifts on your wishlist.” Severus accepts your loving embrace and buries his face in your shoulder even though he knows he doesn’t deserve this. 

You pull back and furrow your brow in confusion as you ask, “Wait, what? How do you know I made a wishlist?” 

“I found it inside your journal around twelve days ago, I believe,” Severus says shyly and his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I apologize if I invaded your privacy by looking at your journal. Though I swear that it was already open when I looked at its contents.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I was just wondering how you knew since I didn’t tell anyone.” You push a strand of hair behind his ear and kiss his cheek. As more tears pour down his face, you summon a handkerchief from a cabinet and hand it to him. “You really didn’t have to get me any of those things, Sev. I planned on buying all of them when they went on sale tomorrow.”

“But then what would I have given you for Christmas? You have given me so much and I bought gifts that are unworthy of you.” Although your loving touch has slightly calmed him down, his body still shakes and his voice breaks as he speaks. 

“Really, you didn’t have to give me any presents. This is corny to say, but having you here for Christmas is all that I wanted. I didn’t ask you for your wishlist nor did I give you my own since I think it’s better to give your loved ones thoughtful gifts rather than ones they’ve been begging for for months.” You pull away from him and sweep your hand over the gifts under the tree. “I was going to have you open all my presents first, but why don’t you let me open the ones you got for me?”

Severus shakes his head and looks down. “I do not want to disappoint you. I know Christmas is your favorite holiday, so I do not want to ruin your day.”

You sigh and cup his face again. “You could never disappoint me or ruin my Christmas, Sev. The fact that you’re even crying about this shows how much you care about me. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and there is nothing that you can say that will convince me otherwise.”

Severus grunts a “fine” under his breath, but he glows internally at what you’ve said. He decides to hand you the present with the notepad first since he doesn’t want to get your hopes up with the potions present or disappoint you with the second-best gifts. 

As you carefully remove the wrapping paper like he had, Severus can tell you’re holding yourself back from ripping at it. When you uncover the notepad, your face lights up and you throw your arms around him. “This is why you were at Scrivenshaft’s without me! You’re so sneaky!” 

“You nearly caught me multiple times. Then, I nearly had a heart attack when you said hello to me.” He laughs at the memory and runs his hand over your hair. 

“Yeah, you looked pretty nervous.” You join him in his laughter and place the notepad on a nearby table. “What’s next?”

“This.” He points out the small box in golden wrapping paper. He realizes that his wrapping, even when he used a spell to do it, isn’t nearly as good as yours. “It is not special, but it was on your list.”

“If it’s from you, then it is special,” you say with a smile. Normally, he would roll his eyes when Dumbledore makes a statement like that. Yet you say things like that, he rolls his eyes and smiles. 

You quickly remove the wrapping paper from the Iridescent Ink and you embrace him again. “Thank you, Sev! I’ll use this to write notes when I’m at home. It’s too special to use at work.”

His hands shake as he hands you the pillow and the snow globe at the same time. Although you promised that this wouldn’t ruin your Christmas or that you wouldn’t be upset at him, Severus’s mind always goes to the worst. You reach for the snow globe first and squeeze the wrapping and padding before opening it. 

“Ooh, what’s this? It’s probably something fragile by the feel of it,” you comment. When you spot the cute snowman and snowmen waving at you, you squeal. “They’re so cute! That’s us! And they remind me of the snowman and snowmen outside too!” You run up and place your new gift on the table with your snow globe collection. “You know what? This is even better than the Diagon Alley snow globe.” And that makes a genuine, wide grin break out on Severus’s face for the first time that day. 

“I am glad. I hope you like the next one as much.” Once it’s free of its covering, you squeeze the temperature-changing pillow and sigh at how it adjusts to your body temperature. 

“I’m going to find a way to make this one Severus-temperature on the nights you’re away. But for now, I’m going to put this in the closet so it doesn’t get dirty.” 

After you get back, you open the tea box and the illustrated book. You promise to make two cups of that tea right after opening all the gifts, and your eyes light up at the moving illustrations. He tells you about the store clerk assuming that it was for his child, and you bury your face in your hands and laugh. 

“I saved the best two for last,” he says quietly and first gives you the potion ornaments. “I made everything myself.”

You unwrap the potion ornaments and your mouth drops in awe. The liquid swirls inside the glass and casts a mesmerizing glow onto the walls and the floor. You immediately wave your wand and hang each icicle and egg ornament on the tree, then tap them to change the color of the potion inside to match the colors on the tree. Severus anxiously watches to see how else you’ll react, but then feels a surge of relief when you turn to him, tears in your eyes. You embrace him for the millionth time that day and kiss him so passionately that he can hardly breathe. “This has to be the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Either this one or the animal potion you gave me several months ago,” you say breathlessly. 

Severus cries again and presses his forehead against yours. “That means you will adore the last present I have for you.” You pick up the box right beside you and tenderly open it. You sniff and continue to cry as you uncover the large bottle. Cradling it in your hands, you uncork the cap and are mesmerized by the tiny images of the two of you floating into the air: clinking your drinks at the Three Broomsticks, standing outside a glowing Diagon Alley shop, and wrapping your arms around him as he sits in his Hogwarts office. Your lip trembles and you sob even louder as you stare at the sentimental gift. With steady hands, you carefully place the bottle on the side table and hug him again. 

“I keep hugging you, but you deserve something even better tonight,” you whisper suggestively into his ear and laugh gently. Severus blushes and twiddles with his thumbs, trying to ignore the heat rising in other parts of his body. 

Every other present Severus opens jerks even more tears from his eyes: a scrapbook with photos of you and him, a vintage book on spells, and a candle set with subtle Christmas scents.  

After you both put your presents away, you brew the tea as promised and prepare a light meal. For the rest of the day, Severus helps you cook roast beef, roast potatoes, parsnips, rolls, smoked salmon, Holiday Blancmange, plum pudding, and chocolate cake. He continually fears that he’ll burn something or start a fire, but everything tastes delicious once you two finally sit down and eat. During the evening, you relax by the fireplace and the Christmas tree, sipping hot chocolate and talking for hours. When you two go to bed, well, Severus receives his last present of the day. Although the day isn’t full of sled riding down steep hills and he never expected to burst into tears as you exchanged gifts, Severus deems this the first perfect Christmas he’s had in his life. 

[danikamariewrites]

can you write something ruhn×reader? Maybe they go to ice skating and they're so cute, and after going home watching Christmas movies and being so cute together

Christmas in the City

Ruhn x reader

A/n: I’m sorry this is so short but it’s just a lil hc. That’s all for the Christmas Eve Eve celebration!

Warnings: none

Ruhn decided a stay-cation would be fun for Christmas

He books you guys a room in the fanciest hotel in Lunathion

When you check in you walk around the lobby looking at the lights and decor

There’s even a life size gingerbread house with a little gingerbread village next to it

The hotel even put a mini fake tree in your room that’s decorated. It had presents underneath it that you asked Ruhn about. All he said was, “Hhmm how did those get there? Guess you’ll have to wait and see if they’re real.”

When he had went to the gym the next morning you called Flynn asking him to bring Ruhn’s presents (you assumed you would do presents the day after oops)

You checked in on solstice eve eve so you changed and headed to dinner in the hotel restaurant

Ruhn pulled out all the stops for dinner. A 3 course meal, expensive champagne, and an extravagant dessert

After dinner you went for a walk around the expensive shopping district looking at the window displays and lights

On solstice eve Ruhn took you ice skating in the rink where the big tree is

After you get hot chocolate and lunch from the food trucks and take a stroll through the holiday village and make so small splurge purchases

Getting back to the room you change into your matching PJs (you convinced him to at least wear the pants bc that male never wears a shirt to bed he says it’s too constricting)

You throw on the movie channel that’s having a solstice movie marathon

You cuddle all night whispering sweet nothings to each other

Solstice morning you excitedly jump out of bed grabbing the presents and bringing them back to bed

You and Ruhn take turns opening gifts

Once gifts are done Ruhn orders room service for breakfast

You spend the day lounging around the hotel room and walking around

The hotel even had a hot chocolate bar and solstice cookies in the lobby

[leiawritesstories]

Stick Season (Part 3)

thanks for putting up with the writer's block lol :) if you've been reading this au, you have my heart and all my love (hehe because it's Noah Kahan...all right i'll stop) there will be one more part, maybe two :))

masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: talk of death/funerals, swearing, lots of emotions, tears, idiots in love (kind of?)

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black wool peacoat cinched tightly around her waist, Aelin stood at her father’s side, her gloved hand in his, and stared vacantly at the square granite plaque that marked the site of her mother’s earthly remains. 

Evalin Ashryver. Beloved Wife and Mother. May She Rest In Eternal Peace. 

Rhoe placed his free hand against the plaque, leaned his head against the cold stone, and closed his eyes, the creases on his face more pronounced with sorrow. His lips moved silently, exchanging private words with his departed wife. Aelin remained steady at his side, surprised that she had been unable to shed any tears throughout the simple, poignant memorial service. Deep down, Aelin had loved her mother, and no amount of criticism or disapproval could completely quench that love. 

“Aelin. Ae–Fireheart?” Rhoe’s voice broke through her reverie. 

She shook her head. “I’m here.” 

“Are you ready to go?” Her father’s question was nothing but kind. 

“Yes.” She cast a final look at Evalin’s plaque, turned, and walked side by side with her father out of the mausoleum. “Dad?” 

“Hmm?” 

Aelin released a shaky breath. “I…Is it bad that I haven’t cried?” Worry creased her forehead. “I feel like a horrible daughter, but I haven’t cried. Or even really felt that sad.” 

Rhoe stopped, faced his daughter, and took both of her gloved hands in his. “No, my Fireheart, it’s not bad.” He wrapped Aelin into a hug. “I know your relationship with your mother was…ah, complicated. It’s not bad that you haven’t shed any tears.” 

Aelin felt her throat tighten at her father’s quiet reassurance. “I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too,” he returned, his words clogged with tears. “Perhaps someday you’ll feel like visiting her stone, and perhaps then you’ll cry. But maybe not.” He looped his arm back through hers. “It does not and never will make you a bad daughter.” 

~

Rowan had needed to get out of the house–with all the cousins there, it was often a wild whirlwind of chaos, and his type-A personality couldn’t handle it 24/7. So Sellene and Enda had kicked him out, sending him into town with a short shopping list that ended up taking hours to complete. 

It wasn’t his fault that he’d had to drive clear over to Rifthold to find a stand for the Christmas tree, because of course the only hardware store in the region that had tree stands in stock would be thirty miles away. 

There was only one more item on the list, though, and Rowan had been avoiding it for as long as he possibly could. Why the fuck did Sellene want a book on “holistic herbal healing,” for gods’ sake? He was going to look like an idiot buying that. She’d left him a note saying Orynth Shelves had the book in stock, so at least he wouldn’t have to go terribly far, and Philippa–who owned that bookstore–was a sweetheart who’d known Rowan since he was a kid. 

He glanced into the display window of the bookstore as he walked up the street and cracked a half smile. Philippa must have had some volunteers from the high school help with the holiday display, because she had great love and knowledge of books, but she did not have great knowledge of artistically pleasing book displays. Short stacks of holiday books, from classics like A Christmas Carol and How The Grinch Stole Christmas to modern novels with brightly colored covers sat atop a blanket of fake snow and mingled with little decorative log cabins, plastic pine trees, and even a ski lift. Soft yellow twinkle lights gave the charming display a cozy, small-town feel, and the whole effect was that of a little village in the mountains offering winter books galore for enjoyment. No, Philippa definitely couldn’t have planned and executed that display by herself. 

Nobody was at the front desk when Rowan walked in, the bells on the front door jingling behind him. He headed straight for the section where Sellene had told him the book she wanted was, located the title, and plucked it off the shelf. And grimaced. It wasn’t ugly or obnoxious, but the words Holistic Herbal Healing for Beginners were lettered in large, decorative script on the cover. There would be no doubt what the book was. He muffled a sigh and walked back to the desk, hoping Philippa wouldn’t tease him too much about the damn book. The desk was still unattended, so he rang the little bell. 

There was a rustle of papers from the office in the back, and a moment later–

“You’re not Philippa.” Before the words were fully out of his mouth, Rowan knew how stupid they sounded. 

Aelin pressed her lips together, her characteristic sign of holding back laughter. “Sorry to disappoint.” She glanced at the book in his hand, and an irrepressible grin tugged at the corners of her lips despite her valiant effort to stifle it. “Getting into alternative medicine, hmm?” 

“I–it’s not–huh?” Rowan’s brain finally caught up with the fact that Aelin had made a joke. 

“It’s for Sellene, isn’t it?” She tapped the tablet in her hand. 

“Yeah.” He passed her the book. “She’s had me running errands all over creation for hours. Had to drive all the way to Rifthold to find a fuckin’ stand for the tree.” Aelin scanned the book’s barcode, a small smirk curving her full, plush lips. Lips that Rowan still dreamed of tasting three years later. Pull it together, idiot! “This is the last thing on her list.” 

“I didn't think she was into holistic herbal healing,” Aelin drawled. She glanced at the total. “That’ll be $12.99. Cash or card?” 

How about I take you on a date instead? For some inexplicable reason, those were the first words on Rowan’s tongue. “Card.” Aelin nodded and slid a card reader across the desk. He tapped his credit card and the little reader flashed green. 

“Thanks for coming to Orynth Shelves!” She handed him the receipt and gave him her brightest customer service smile. 

He blinked. “Wait…are you actually working here?” 

“Temporarily, yes.” She knew him too well–anyone else would have bristled at his question, thinking it offensive. “Since I’m home through New Year’s.” Unless he was seeing things (which was a very real possibility, considering that ninety-five percent of him still ached with love for Aelin Ashryver Galathynius), he could have sworn there was something deeper than exhaustion hiding beneath the smile and the paper-thin veneer of cheerful humor. 

“Does that…you’re not alone, are you?” 

“No.” She paused. “I’m with Dad, and Aedion decided he was going to crash at our house, so he’s there too.” 

“Typical Aedion.” 

“Yeah.” She cast him a glance that, as always, saw more than anyone else ever saw. “What about you? House full of wild children?” 

“And adults,” he added with a wry grin. 

She huffed a soft laugh. “No wonder you got the shopping list.” 

“Should I be offended that you think I’m always the designated shopper?” 

“Of course not. I know you too we–I know how you are with chaos.” 

The words she hadn’t completely said trickled into the frozen corners of his heart, filling him with some kind of warmth. I know you too well. “I know you do.” He hadn’t meant to say it like that, in that soft, low voice he only ever used with her. 

Raw longing flashed across her face, quickly muffled by blank, controlled politeness. “Thanks for visiting Orynth Shelves,” she repeated, this time in a whisper that cracked on the last word. 

“Aelin,” Rowan breathed, feeling his pounding heart spill into his expression, “I want to see you again.” Because he did. 

Three years without her was three years too long.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” she returned, conflicted. 

He tucked the book under his arm and braced his hands flat atop the desk. “Since when have we done what other people think is the best idea?” 

A single tear glittered in the corner of her left eye. “I’m going back to New York in less than a month, Rowan. I…even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t deserve to see you.” 

The words stabbed him right through the heart. “Whoever told you that was spewing bullshit,” he said, his voice soft but firm with conviction. 

She smashed her lips into a flat, tight line, keeping her composure from crumbling. “I…why?” The question just about broke her chest in half. “Why would you want to see me after what I did?” 

“Because I lo–loved you.” It took all of his restraint to keep his hands where they were and not place his fingertips to her fallen face and lift her chin up. “Because you’re still the better half of my heart, and nobody will ever change that.” 

“Ro,” she breathed, shakily. She lifted her eyes to his, and the depth of the grief in her gaze paired with that familiar nickname threatened to break him in two. “I’m…not sure.” 

“I’m sure.” Damn his restraint to hell. He reached across the desk and, tentatively, placed his hand atop hers, the barest possible slice of contact. “Please, Ae.” 

She drew in and released a deep, uneven breath. “Okay.” Beneath his hand, she turned hers over and flattened her palm against his. “When are you free?” 

~

The Stone Castle, a restaurant in downtown Orynth that had been owned by Emrys since as long as Aelin could remember, was as warm, welcoming, and bustling as ever when she walked in the front doors on Friday evening. She’d worked there for a couple of years when she was in high school, and the place still felt the same. 

“Miss Galathynius, as I live and breathe!” Emrys himself appeared from gods-knew-where and shook Aelin's hand warmly, his smile creasing his cheeks. “It’s been too long since you were home.” 

“It really has.” She grinned at the jovial older man who cooked the best food in fifty miles. “New York can never compare.” 

“You flatter me,” he chuckled. “Now don’t tell me–are you meeting a certain Mr. Whitethorn tonight?” 

Her silence and rising blush was an answer in itself. 

Emrys beamed. “You know where to find him, then.” 

“You meddle far too much,” she teased, laughing wryly. “Thanks, Emrys.” 

He winked. “Have a lovely evening, my dear.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Aelin shed her heavy winter coat, hung it neatly on a peg in the coat room, adjusted her purse on her shoulder, and walked towards the back of the restaurant with her heartbeat suddenly hammering twice as fast and nervous questions clogging her mind. Should she have agreed to this–was it too soon? Was it too much? Would it be wrong to back out now? 

“Hey.” As if he could sense her, Rowan was suddenly in front of her, steadying her with one large, warm hand on her upper arm. “You look gorgeous, Ae.” 

A small smile curved her lips. “Thanks.” She linked her hand in his and let him lead her back to their table, the same booth they sat in every time they came to Emrys’s restaurant. “You clean up pretty well too, Rowan.” 

He cracked a grin. “Would I sound desperate if I said I’ve missed you?” 

A tiny corner of her iced-over heart melted. “Not at all.” Her grin turned softer. “I missed you too.” More than I’m ready to admit, she added, mentally. 

Neither one of them needed to look at a menu, so a brief silence fell over their little booth before Rowan exhaled shakily and the question tumbled out of his lips. “Why, Ae?” 

Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes at the way his simple, plaintive question sliced right through all the walls she’d built around her heart. “I…” Something she didn’t know how to name stopped her before she could rattle off her usual spiel about it wasn’t working anymore. “I let myself think too much,” she finally admitted, voice hoarse. 

“Fireheart,” Rowan breathed, reaching instinctively for her hands but stopping himself–gods, the man had always been too perceptive. 

Aelin linked her fingers with his, grounding herself in the solid, reassuring warmth of his rough palms. “On the drive home that day, I…my mother called, and she was…you know how Evalin could be sometimes.” 

“Indeed.” His thumbs stroked idly over her knuckles. “So, she called you?” 

“She didn’t try to hide her displeasure that I planned to stop at your house first,” Aelin murmured. “She…she was always finding some fault to pick at, some flaw to criticize, and I should have said I was farther away so she wouldn’t get on my ass about seeing you but I wasn’t thinking because I was so godsdamned happy to see you again so I just said I was going to your house, and then she told me I didn’t care about my own family and it just–” The sob she’d been strangling broke free, escaping as the first tear slipped down her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry, Ae,” Rowan whispered. Gently, he reached up and caught her tears, brushing the salty crystal drops away from her cheeks. “You never should have had to go through that.” 

“I let her get in my head,” she croaked. “I let her disapproval control me.” 

He slipped around to her side of the booth, hesitantly offering to hold her. “She was never pleased with anything, was she, love?” 

Aelin tucked herself into Rowan’s side, half in his lap, and pressed her face into his shoulder, an old familiar position in which he’d held her so many times before. “Never.” 

The heat of her silent tears seeped into his sweater, but he didn’t give two shits about the clothing. He’d sacrifice his entire wardrobe if it meant holding her in his arms like this. 

“I’m so sorry, Ro,” she murmured, raising her head to meet his open gaze, her turquoise eyes shrouded with tears. “I ruined everything–gods, I was so shallow, you probably still hate me for it.” 

His heart cracked at the wavering insecurity hiding behind her words. “I have never hated you, Ae. Never.” He swept a stray tear from her cheek. “You shattered me when you drove past, yeah, but even that could never make me stop loving you.” 

Breathless, she blinked, stunned to her core by his words. “You…what?”

“I love you, Aelin Galathynius.” His thumb traced her jawline. “To whatever end, right?” 

“How?” she choked out, curling her fingers into his sweater like she was afraid this was all some kind of dream. “I broke us apart, Rowan.” 

“And you’re putting us back together as we speak,” he said. 

The pure conviction in his voice, and the love she’d always had from him but had been too protective of her heart to fully feel, seeped through the cracks in her armor and filled her depleted heart with warmth. “Are you sure?” 

“With you? Always.” 

She sniffled. “You’ve always been too good to me, love.” 

“Impossible.” For the first time in three long years, he tipped up her chin and touched a whisper of a kiss to her lips. “Nothing can ever be too good for you, love.”

~~~

TAGS:

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[chantsdemarins]

Last Christmas on Midgard... (Loki X Reader)

Dear lord. This was supposed to be my wholesome addition to @lokisgoodgirl “Winter Warmers” collection. It quickly became an angst-filled mini-epic! I guess I just can’t do fluff and happy endings! It was originally conceived as a “remix” to the classic Wham! song “Last Christmas”. I followed the video for a lot of inspiration, but things got out of hand. Included are the screenshots from the original Wham! video throughout! Loki is played by Andrew Ridgeley and Thor is of course George Michael.  😵

I hope someone out there enjoys it! If so, please reblog and comment. Your comments are the world to me!!

Smut level: 🔥🔥🔥

Summary: You are surprised to find your prayers answered, it's just not the right brother. Or is it?

It had been Thor’s lust and immaturity, perhaps.

Beyond your ideas of what was possible, he came to you one day as you were finishing your duties. It took all your strength to believe it. The daughter of a clan chieftain who shouldn’t have been praying to Norse gods. Yet he heard you.

Christianity had taken root in most of your village, except you couldn’t help to ask any raven you saw to send a prayer up to Thor. Find him in Asgard. The god you loved the most. The god that had stolen your heart. In the depths of your reverence, you laid flowers next to the Yew tree for the Norn’s blessings. You asked Freya to help Thor know your pleas.

In your wildest dreams, you never honestly expected him to come down to you in a thunderous snowstorm…

You never expected him to hear you.

You never expected him to fall in love with you.

You never expected him to offer Idunn’s apple.

You never expected him to disappear.

One thousand years is a long time to wait…

Pommes du Luc Ski Chalet, 1986

Saas-Fee, Switzerland

“Being stuck on Midgard is lame,” Loki mused while twirling his fingers around the red ribbon of a present before laying it back under the admittedly impressive, haphazardly assembled Midgard Christmas tree Volstagg had dragged in from the mountainside. His earnest attempt to make the best of their wanting situation.

 “There could be worse things, brother, like being stranded on Muspelheim with Surtur using one of us as kindling,” Thor laughed, pouring his brother another stein of grog.

 Loki clasped the drink dismissively and took a large swig. He stalked his lithe body across the large A-frame house to look out the window. It was snowing, yet again.

 Thor joined Loki near the window, his large paws slapping his back, causing him to spit up some of his drink in a thin spray. He looked keenly at his brother, his blue-green eyes matching the icy weather conditions.

 “At least you aren’t blaming me this time. You know we are both stranded here until father lets us come back. It’s equally both of our faults….”

 “It’s mostly your fault Thor of course, but I take some of the blame-otherwise the fun I had participating would be for naught,” Loki winked and smirked simultaneously.

 Wanting to change the subject to pursue the delight of his thoughts, Thor continued. “Moreso, you realize that neither of us knows how to ski,” he said looking out at the snow-covered mountainside.

 “It’s rather ironic, don’t you think? We battle elves and other rather rare life forms with various life-ending capacities, yet we don’t know how to balance on these Midgardian twigs,” Thor philosophically pointed to the lavish display of skis lined up beneath the windowpane.

 “At least I know how to surf,” Loki said with a self-assured laugh.  

 Thor wrinkled his forehead.

 “No, you don’t, brother. I’ll wager 17,000 leagues of Vanir Andara.”

 Just then, Fandrall woke from his nap to interject a brief sentiment.

  “He’s lying. Thor. Let me tell the tale of Brazil once I’m sober enough to drag up the past without passing out from laughter.”

 With this admission, Loki promptly threw his scarf at him, which he swatted away and quickly put around his neck. He relished the smell of cedar, smoke, and bergamot that danced around Loki’s being and clung to all his clothes.

“Smells like you,” he said, sniffing it yet again.

“Breathe deep, for this is the only way you shall receive the totality of my essence,” Loki gestured and bowed, perhaps slightly mocking the Allfather.

 “Sure,” Fandrall laughed before wrapping the scarf tighter and closing his eyes again, drifting back into his drunken slumber.

 Thor caught the faint whiff of his brother’s innuendo toward Fandrall. Never knowing exactly how to process Loki’s rakish gestures, he cleared his mind and returned to his assessment of their situation.

 The truth was they had angered their father. They had angered Heimdall. Frigga was also none too pleased. The Bifrost was temporarily closed. There was no way off Midgard for the time being. They were both given a simple enough task, and both princes failed. Much worse, they had endangered the lives of the other court warriors. It was a rare event when both princes got in trouble simultaneously. They had been careless with a missive, and it had fallen into the wrong hands setting back years of diplomacy. Now they were stuck and without seiðr until they could answer their father’s rather cryptic riddle.

 “Find the heart of the mountain and melt the ice that has grown around it.”

“Allfather’s riddle is lame, too,” Loki croaked out loud, thinking about it for a moment.

 Thor, mainly the more immature and loyal one, agreed with his brother.

 “Yeah, it is rather dumb. Why must we solve a riddle? Can’t father just punish us in some other, more sensible way? I was never good at riddles,” Thor was growing more pained by the moment.

 “Well, brother, you are always in luck while I am around, for as you are most likely keenly aware, I am a master at riddles and will soon have this one solved,” Loki boasted.

 Thor rolled his eyes. Loki continued, plans emerging in his head.

 “But I ask, why rush back? We have this bleak yet relatively well-appointed human cabin. It’s almost Midgard’s “Christmas”, as Vollstag has helped us make merry with this tree,” he pointed at the dry-looking pine in the corner.

 “Perhaps, I should head into Saas-Fee and see who I can wrangle up. Maybe we should have a little faire la fête, as the Midgardians do this time of year?”

Thor looked intently at Loki, his skepticism not well hidden. 

“To lighten the mood?” Loki said, twirling around, letting his boots spin him along the smooth wood floor.

 Still no response from his brother. 

“Right, you’d think Ragnarök happened by how everyone is acting,” Loki mused, looking at the cacophony of drunken warriors laid out in piles, sunken into bean bag chairs, and wrapped in throw rugs. Reassuring himself of the grandeur of his new plan, he prattled on.

 “We just made a mistake, and it will be fixed soon. Until then, we celebrate!”

 With that statement, Loki opened the heavy door and braced himself in the snow. He turned around briefly to see his brother shaking his head before closing the door.

 “Stop. Wait. Don’t go,” Thor sardonically mumbled.

The path to town was covered in thick snow, and Loki was ill-dressed for the trek. He looked down at his shiny black Comme des Garcons boots with disdain. The leather was already buckling—the travails of Midgardian geography, so much damn snow.

 “Ugh. Another pair ruined,” he sputtered as he pursued the barely visible path.

 By the time he reached the only tavern in town, he was thoroughly soaked all over, not just his boots. Entering the dark building, Loki noticed the patron’s chatter came to a brief lull. He was used to making an appearance, so he was not bothered. He sat in a rather fancy booth and took off nearly all his clothes, causing more of a stir with the celebratory gawking patrons. His sweater, ski pants, and socks came off until he was wearing nothing more than his plaid shirt and tight jeans. He moved his hands through his inky wet locks, gently pulling out the wet knots, slightly frustrated.

 “Why didn’t I just wear a hat,” he mumbled, looking at his reflection in the glass-framed vintage absinthe poster in his booth.

 He looked around the Midgard tavern, stealing glances with the onlookers. Unfortunately, none of the people were attractive to Loki. They were almost as boring as his fellow warriors napping back at the lodge. Except for one possibility, Loki had scouted out early upon his arrival.   

You had been drinking yourself into a stupor all afternoon. You hated the holidays. Especially Christmas.

 In your dizzying consumption, you didn’t notice the calamitous man god enter and immediately disrobe in the furthest back booth. How could you? After five drinks in, you could barely make eye contact with the overly nice Swiss wait staff to procure you yet another cocktail.

 “Un autre verre,” you spoke, again and again, barely audible to anyone other than trained tacticians of alcohol and imbibed patrons.

 Loki thought someone with that kind of appetite for drinking before dinner must be a rather fun person, and likely she had some friends to bring along, who were equally as raucous.

 Drink in hand, Loki made his way toward you.

 Scooting in, he slid between you and the other partaker on the next bar stool. His thin yet muscled frame, a paper gliding into an envelope. His smile arriving before his words, he put his slightly damp handsomeness to good use.

 “What do you say? Can I get you another round of whatever you are having? Whisky sour, is it?” Loki inspected her glass, briefly picking it up and swirling the brown liquid in the dim tavern light. Correcting his immediate rejection of the smell with another wide smile.

 Slightly aghast at his sheer audacity, you batted his hand away. A pause before speaking hung in the air as you collected your sprawling thoughts on this man.

 “Look, buddy, this isn’t 1977. A woman can sit at a bar and have her drink and not be bothered,” you coldly replied, pulling your glass closer to your person, making a skittering sound across the bar. Loki was slightly perturbed but not yet daunted.

 He liked you, a challenge.

 On Asgard and practically any other realm, including Midgard-women (and most men) usually fell prey to his charm eventually. Although feeling the sting of your unkind words, perhaps he was misguided in thinking that you were, well…fun?

 Taking a moment for himself, too, he thought carefully about what to do next.

 Lost in thought, he drummed his long fingers along the bar to the songs from the old jukebox. You were likely what they called “feminist” on Earth he decided. Or maybe worse, you were scorned? Loki began to conjure all kinds of less tantalizing possibilities. He could still depart from your range and go to any other starry-eyed woman on the premise. Yet, he felt he must proceed.

 You continued drinking while he was thinking, eventually gesturing to the wait staff to refill your glass again. You turned slightly to avoid this man and return to your thoughts, which were enough for you, and only you, thank you very much.

 Languidly you pulled out a pack of cigarettes procured in Paris last Spring. What a treat from your usual hand-rolled. They were long, like your legs, and you liked how they delicately framed your face as you smoked them. Lighting one up, you took a long drag, inhaling, luxuriating. Smoke billowing, obscuring, creating a pillow of silence around you.

 You hoped he would get the hint.

 After some time and about three Fleetwood Mac songs later, Loki was done pretending he was listening to the music. It was decided he would go another route to entice your interest. You could be a bad girl deep down, and a little frisky yet direct wordplay might just turn your attitude around. He needed to let you know just what he wanted. Leaning in again, Loki made his second attempt.

 “My little pet, you are delightful. So full of energy. Let me invite you to a little soiree up the mountain. My brother and I are looking for beautiful women like you to accompany us.”

This was the last straw. You promptly turned your body and looked at Loki with a coy smile, concealing the boiling vitriol behind your sugary pink lip gloss. You blew a thick cloud of smoke directly in his face.

 “You minx!” he yelled a little too dramatically as you reached over and left the wait staff money for your tab.

 Pulling your puffer jacket on and zipping up quickly, you knew you better exit the scene before this man could stop you with another word or by the reach of his long limbs. You were out the tavern door and peeling towards your chalet down the street.

 Yet, of course, he followed you.

 Leaving all his winter gear behind, Loki ran through the puffy soufflé of snow in just his flannel. His still-wet hair immediately froze into charcoal icicles. It was very illogical, and Loki chastised himself internally as he ran.

 Why bother with this woman? Clearly, she was not interested in his company. Likely 20 other women (and some men) in the tavern would have certainly been a “YES” and not required such theatrics. He yelled at you. You kept walking faster, slightly jogging now. Maybe it was time to try his modest charm. He switched gears yet again.

 “By the Norns, why are you running? I’m sorry, my lady, if I have offended you,” Loki choked out as he tried to keep pace with you, finally catching up, arms flapping.

 You stopped. You replayed what you thought you had just heard.

 “By the Norns.”

 It echoed in your head as if you’d suddenly been transplanted into a canyon. A lightning bolt struck you dead in your tracks. You could barely turn to look this stranger in the eye.

 “Who are you?” was the only thing that came out of your mouth. Your eyes narrowed as if squinting would reveal something of this man’s heritage and identity.

 “Who am I?” He repeated in shallow breaths. Loki was slightly put off. He hadn’t thought this far in advance, was he to tell the woman his real name? You tried to speak again.

 “The only time I’ve heard that spoken in the last thousand years was from a Viking.”

 He couldn’t be.

It just couldn’t be.

 Although looking at him and adjusting your gaze in the singular light of the streetlamp, your mind slowly made a match. He did look familiar, but it was so so long ago.

 “Who are you? I should be asking, perhaps,” Loki mused, now wide-eyed. His attention laser-focused on you. The mention of a “thousand years” perked his interest in you even more.

He didn’t expect to find anyone other than your typical Midgardian bores tucked away in these mountains. You were different, not just because you rebuked him. He sought you out. It wasn’t just your negative attitude that attracted him.

 You stood near him, looking at every detail. His light eyes, his dark hair. His almost perfect triangle nose. The last time you saw him was from a distance when he arrived to fetch his brother and take him back to Asgard.

 Your lover god. Thor. In the woods of Norvegr.

 Loki looked closer at your jacket. It appeared like any old puffer ski jacket, except for the diamond and crystal broach you wore on the lapel. You had worn that broach every day for the last thousand years. Almost without thought, you fastened it to your clothing every day since Thor gave it to you.

 “Mother’s broach,” Loki thought to himself as he looked up from your lapel and into your searching eyes. His face stone, unmoving. Shock rolled through him.

 At this moment, he was confident playing all his cards was not what the occasion called for.

 You instinctively placed your hand on it protectively when you caught him looking at it. Time stilled. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes. Emotions long gone came thundering back like your lost god, but his brother was now before you.

 Not Thor.

Not the man you had given your maidenhood to all those years ago.

Not the man who told you that you would be queen someday.

Not the man who gave you Indunn’s apple.

Not the man who made you immortal.

 The wind picked up, blowing your hair, and a new wave of snow began falling on you both. You wondered what alchemical spell had brought this day to you after so long. No contact. Nothing. You had given up.

 Thor had disappeared. Wearing the broach had become routine, although it was barely connected to the past. If the concept of the past even existed in your eternal life.

Loki cut the silence, as he was keen to do. He wanted his following words to you to be the most careful yet.

 “Dear woman, I don’t mean to bother you. I intended to invite you to a party, that is all. Now I see I’ve caused you harm. I must ask, though, do we know one another?”

 He concealed what he suspected deep within his being just in case you might be able to read his mind or his auric field. You also could not tell him the truth. You knew that much.

If this was indeed Loki, the god of chaos, brother of Thor, he could use your words against you or worse. You were living on borrowed time from Asgard after all.

 You spoke again, each word tenderly cloaked.

 “We do not know one another, but I am also not entirely like the people here in this village, as it seems you might have noticed.”

 “I did notice,” Loki spoke back with a sanguine hush, a purposeful caution edging on something more.

 “That is why your mention of the Norse gods took me aback, I have some familiarity with them, but it was long ago.” That was all you would ever say you decided. That was enough. If he was clever at all, he could draw his own conclusions.

 “How long ago did you have familiarity with them? If you don’t mind, just a few more questions.”

 Loki was surprising himself in this conversation. In another instance, he might had you up against the wall of the corner drug store, one of his knives curled to your neck, forcing a confession. But he did not have his magic, and in this vulnerable state, he defaulted to using his silver tongue instead of his silver blade.

 “I do mind, and I am done answering your questions. I am going to retire to my home, um, sir, I didn’t get your name.”

 “Loki. My name is Loki.”

 There it was.

Memory is a fragmented thing after so many years. If your life had ended when it should have, perhaps at 35, you might not have the darkness in your heart. Darkness prompted moving from village to village when your family and friends died, and you didn’t.

 A darkness that you tried to enliven with dalliances into different religions, each with its unique unsatisfactory conclusion. The darkness you tried to quell with lovers and with liquor.

 Eventually, you only thought of Thor every hundred years or so. Every hundred years you let yourself still wonder.

Would the gods be back?

Would your god-king return?

Every hundred year you sent silent prayers to Odin’s raven, even if they were with half your heart.

 Stilling the shiver pulsating through you, you pulled your arms close to your body.

They were back. Both brothers. Both gods. Broken through the veil of the Christian god and here back on Midgard.

 You could not ask about his brother waiting around at the chalet for him to return. You could not step forward or backward. You could not speak Thor’s name.

 Loki noticed your hesitation and fright, his annoyance and curiosity changing into concern. He was now sure you would not be heading back to the party with him.

 He wondered how much time he had. Were Thor and the rest decorating and waiting for him to return with a crowd? What about the riddle he tasked himself to solve with his superior intellect so they could go home…

 His attention had wandered intimately, and completely to this stranger. These earlier concerns seemed so very far away now. Whoever you were, you were hiding your identity, and without his powers or magic, he wouldn’t know who you were unless you told him.

 He knew you were beautiful, and the more licentious part of his being wondered if maybe the right thing to do would be to return to your place with you.  

 Would you soften if he confessed what he knew of the Vikings too? Were you a kind of Midgardian planet-bound Valkyrie? Unable to leave the gravity of this banal realm?

 These thoughts ran wild in his mind as he carefully considered if he should let you go.

 

You knew he didn’t want you to leave.

 It seemed that the Norns were overriding all the time you usually spent avoiding contact with others. This was a moment to either tell Loki everything or simply be quiet, reveling in your answered prayers, which were somehow heard once again. They had been heard once before by Odin’s ravens, after all, it shouldn’t be so shocking to finally have it happen again.

 But instead of bringing you back to Thor, they brought you, his brother. Loki.

 Were the Norns asking you to be twice a concubine to the gods?

 This time you were not a naïve village girl.

This time your earnest reverence had been tempered with knowing both passion, love, and disappointment. You knew how life on Earth worked by now and this time your prayers were answered, it was going to go a different way.

 Taking in the visage of Loki’s crestfallen and reserved demeanor, you spoke gently. The Norns were playing with your frozen heart.

 He was in fact very handsome. More handsome in some ways than your Thor. You could tell Loki’s whole existence was based on rearranging reality, stirring the pot. He wasn’t one for morals or any Midgardian principles of peace the many religions of the populace extolled. You liked that.

 You hadn’t felt this kind of madness, this kind of power, in so long. The more you stared at Loki, the more the feeling grew. This power you once felt in your Viking village. The reason you prayed to Thor. You cherished the Norse gods still as much as you had tried to forget about them.

 Could you take this man before you home? This god of mischief, could you take him into your body as you had his brother so easily?  Not any ordinary woman could change her heart like this, lean into the plaid shirt wearing destiny before her. You were not ordinary.

 Finally, you spoke. “I live nearby. It might be nice to talk about the old days for a while. Since you seem to also know about them. Only If you promise not to ask why I know about the old days in 1986.”

 Loki looked flummoxed. You had taken the words from him—a rare thing for a human to do.

You had asked him over first; he was not in need of seducing you.

 You both walked quickly in the bracing air, watching one another with growing interest. Loki could not shake his need to know just who you were, although his other need to bed you seemed to be taking precedence over getting to the truth. When you arrived to the chalet, you turned the lights on briefly to find matches so you could light candles. You flicked the lights back off quickly when the flames held your tiny house with enough light to see his face and his tall thin frame. You knew he must be freezing.

 To warm things up you turned on the old space heater and rubbed your hands together. Loki was shaking. Resisting the urge to coil your body next to his, evoking the ancient snake rituals you could only vaguely recall, you only let your hand rest on his for a few seconds too long as you handed him a blanket.

 “No Christmas decorations for you then?” Loki laughed as he surveyed the bare, dimly lit front room. His usual bravado was not on full display in this unfamiliar situation.

 “I don’t celebrate Christmas,” you said flatly, nervously.

 “That explains your cheerful disposition then,” Loki jested.

 You laughed. An earnest laugh. You were remiss about what to do next. Offer him another drink? You were quite drunk still. In fact, you wondered if in your drunken state you were imagining all this. A cruel trick.

 As the heater kicked in, off came more clothes. Leaving only your black turtleneck and corduroys remaining. Next, you unraveled your hair from its braid, placing your barrettes on the side table, it was relaxing, it felt like the home you knew so long ago. Although another drink would be nice. You both needed your nerves settled.

 So, whisky from the cabinet was poured into diminutive glasses. Loki started talking about how interesting it was to meet someone who knew of the Norns. His voice sounded like ocean waves coming and going. It was hard to find his exact words in the swell. The low rumble of each sentence felt controlled by the moon or something even more mysterious.

 It was intoxicating. Thor did not have this effect on you, you remembered as much.

 The anti-hero, it seemed, had more verve.

 Not to be too taken by Loki, you remembered bad boys could be easy to let go of. They were often the first ones to leave anyway. Thor wasn’t a bad boy-he was summoned back to Asgard.

 This Loki would likely go on his own even before coffee.

 The night wore on and eventually you were sitting wrapped in blankets, holding your whisky, talking in what seemed endless cantos. Your voice joined his ocean huskiness until a sweet murmur flowed. You didn’t realize how much you needed to discuss the old world with someone who knew it as you did. Somehow, you’d won the favor of the Allfather once again. You were two drunk strangers nested in the protection of Yggdrasil’s branches. Time had moved and yet not moved at all.

 You said his name, “Loki,” and placed your hands on his legs, fingers finding their way under the coarse wool. It was now or never, you supposed, as the sun began to rim the outline of the mountains—nearly dawn.

 You were not going to hang on to this god. No tears. No wailing.

 You were going to let him go so you better hurry up having him.

 Loki was seemingly at your service. Besotted, he let you take the lead.

 Your hands removed the blankets from his body, his skin now warm and growing warmer with your nimble hands finding buttons, clasps, and pulling sleeves off his body. You used your teeth, nearly nipping his skin, causing a quick inhalation of air from Loki as he helped you remove his clothes.

 He leaned into your body, his head in the crook of your neck, turning his face upward, his blue-green princely eyes taking you in. He finally remarked how truly beautiful you were, kissing you deeply, tongue folding into your mouth, hands holding the back of your head.

 “This evening sure took a detour.” He laughed, slightly self-consciously, in whispers.

 “I don’t think this is a detour Loki, I knew what I was doing inviting you over.”

 “But you nearly poured your drink on my head earlier, and you blew smoke in my face,” he continued laughing in between kissing your neck.

 “If those were your real pick-up lines, then I’m sorry,” you smiled pulling back from him slightly. His naked form was gorgeous to behold. When Loki noticed your eyes drinking in every inch of him, he laughed even more.

 “Hardly fair, I’m naked, and you still have your clothes on.”

 You shrugged your shoulders and smiled.

 “I think we need to fix this,” Loki spoke softly as he took off your shirt.

 Naked, after some awkward adjustments, including a bra clasp that was apparently broken, Loki’s hands were once again on you, worshipping your body.

 The long fingers that earlier in the evening were swatted away when they grabbed your drink at the tavern were now not nearly deep enough inside you. You felt his cock on your stomach. He was impossibly hard, but you were begging for more—one more finger inside you.

 Loki could read your mind and crept down the length of your body until his mouth found your wet folds. His fingers and his mouth moved in tandem. You arched your back, spreading your legs in a reverent gesture. You thought briefly of the prayers you had sent to Odin’s ravens to have Thor back, the god you loved. How immature you were even at your age. You hadn’t consciously considered. Perhaps Thor had not been your destined lover all along.

The raven had flown your message to another god.

 Loki. Loki.Loki.

 You called his name aloud as he sunk his cock inside you. Your hands held on to him with all your life. The lewd noises from his cock slamming inside your welcoming body flushed your cheeks. It had been a while. You forgot what being fucked shamelessly sounded like.

 “Open your eyes, dove. I want you to feel this and see it. I want you to look down.” Loki growled into your neck.

 You barely dared to glance-but you lifted your body and looked at the god between your legs.

 His cock was the most glorious sight. Your cheeks deepened their color as you brought your eyes back to his. His breathing was unsteady.

 “You are so beautiful. I wanted you to see how beautiful your pussy looks with my cock inside it,” his words barely audible. He was picturesque. His cock was stunning. His body. His finely hewn muscles. His large hands were holding on to you for dear life. His thighs were holding you hostage.

 “Come for me my dove, come for me, whoever you are,” Loki said as he skillfully slammed his body deeper and deeper into your core.

 Your immortal strength had rarely been tested with any human lovers. This seemed an apt moment to try it out with Loki. You were never able to do so with Thor.

 Suddenly you flipped him over. The shock of being flung startled him as you pinned his hands down to the floor and rode him harder. Harder. Unable to hold you, unable to do anything but be rode, Loki’s orgasm arrived unexpectedly. His growl became a scream, and he finally wrestled his hands from yours.

 Grabbing your hips, he bounced you up and down on his cock with all his strength, your body almost unable to stay upright, only his massive cock holding you in place. You felt him come inside you, and as he slowed his movements, you found your release too. You were finally closing your eyes. Savoring. You both lay still, perhaps shocked at the perfection that just occurred.

 Dawn soon flooded the room, and the rising sun dwarfed the candlelight. Loki was on the verge of falling asleep. His naked, well rode body was strewn akimbo on the floor. Swaths of light colored his alabaster skin a light citrine. He was magnificent.

 “It’s morning, Loki. You must go,” you said after the tiniest inner debate on the merits of exchanging phone numbers or whatever you did in 1986. One thousand years ago, things were a little more severe. Queen, wife-something permanent. Something forever. Not so today.

“You’re kicking me out?” Loki opened his eyes and turned his body to face yours, hands running up and down your body as you attempted to cover it with a blanket.

 “I thought maybe we could stay in touch?” Loki said awkwardly.

 “Or have breakfast? This seems incredibly too short of an encounter,” he lingered on your neck, peppering kisses again.

 “Really?” you said, keeping your cool.

 “What about that big party you and your brother are throwing? I am sure there will be many women there once you return their glances. Even when I was rejecting you, don’t think I didn’t see them all staring at you,” you admitted.

 Loki sat up. He was confused. Even after passionately fucking this woman, he was still not willing to divulge who he was, and he could tell she was also not readily going to confess anything further.

 “The party was a dumb idea,” Loki now felt sheepish.

 “When my brother and I get together and cause trouble sometimes I like to make it worse.”

 “The old gasoline on the fire thing, huh?” you replied.

 “Yeah, something like that.”

 “Is that what this was to you Loki? More trouble?”

 Loki paused. Now even more unsure.

 “No, it wasn’t. It was real. I wanted to spend the night with you. I didn’t want to bring you back to our chalet, to the party,” Loki mused. Pressure building in his chest. Nerves or something else.

He had said too much to you already.

 He jumped up, dressing quickly not looking further at you. You were also hurriedly putting something on, just enough to see him to the door where you hoped he was heading. As much as this might be something, for all the pain being in love with one god caused, being in love with another was an equally bad prospect. You knew this. You were sticking to your guns. No more gods.

 Realizing there was a long walk ahead for him and he was still woefully underdressed he sighed in defeat. Maybe he could just stay for coffee?

 Then suddenly something happened. In the blink of an eye, Loki was wearing the jacket he left at the tavern. Your jaw dropped open.

 “What,” you yelled, walking towards him feeling his chest, pulling at the fur-lined hood in disbelief.

 “How?” you rubbed your eyes and blinked again, yes he was in fact wearing his coat now.

 “Oh no,” Loki looked at you with embarrassment and with some nascent excitement.

 “I think you owe me an explanation! How did you just make your coat appear?”

 Knowing he was a god was one thing, but you honestly didn’t expect him to reveal himself in such a pedestrian kind of way. Where was the big fanfare? Weren’t Loki and Thor warriors with powers beyond the comprehension of mere mortals?

 “I, I..well, I didn’t have this um ability earlier,” he quixotically spoke.

 You were now in a bad spot. Was he going to say more? Would you have to now confess everything just because he magicked his coat from the pub?

It occurred to Loki at about the same time, that his seiðr had come back, he had obviously solved his father’s riddle. Loki stared at you.

You.

You were the riddle.

Your heart was frozen. He had melted it. How could Odin have known? He felt his own heart beating in his chest, if there had also been ice on it, it was a soggy mess. What had he done?

He needed to get back to Thor. No doubt the Bifrost would be pummeling from the sky at any minute. They needed to go home.

 Knowing full well this lame magic was possible because he was a god you tried to put him at ease without revealing anything further.

 “I’ll just chalk that up to me being still a little drunk Loki,” you laughed, trying to make him feel relieved. He smiled and a knowing look graced his face.

“Thank you for understanding, and not asking too many questions.”

 “I could say the same thing about you mister,” you tried to be casual. 

 “Well then thank you for the beautiful evening,” Loki leaned down and kissed your forehead.     

Feeling confused yet again, he was thankful to you for so many things.

 “Wait Loki, I want you to have something,” you ran over to your own coat hanging on your wooden rocking chair. You carefully unpinned the broach. Holding it in your clasped hand, you fought back tears of a thousand years held in your heart. You couldn’t stop them. They cascaded down your face as you handed Loki the broach. Immediately Loki backed away from you.

 “I can’t take this y/n. Obviously, this must mean something to you. Why would you give this to me?” Loki held your shoulders as you held your hand out to him. He was full of questions. He knew this broach was his mother’s. He still didn’t know why this woman he just made love to had it. It occurred to him that she was some Asgardian exile. Maybe she was a friend of his mother’s from long ago? He could not take it from her, he knew that much. He refused.

 “You must take it Loki,” you raised your voice slightly.

 “It was never mine to keep, none of this was.”

 “What do you mean? None of this?”

 You took his large hand in yours and placed the broach, folding his long fingers around it.

 “Go.”

 Stupefied, Loki did as you asked.

 “I do hope our paths cross again my lady, there are so many things left unsaid,” he bowed slightly and hesitantly left. As the door closed you fell in a heap against it.

 With his seiðr restored Loki immediately returned to the chalet to find his friends packed and ready to leave. Obviously, they had their powers back as well. Thor stood unceremoniously in his blue jeans, hands on his hips.

 “I see that you were in no hurry to return to us Loki, we’ve been waiting since near dawn.”

 Loki scoffed, “I see you are unthankful, for it was me that solved father’s riddle.”

 Thor narrowed his eyes. “Brother, do tell us how you did it.”

 “A woman.”

 “If that is not the most unoriginal thing I have ever heard!” Thor was really laughing now.

 “Let me guess your gracious powers as a lover solved the riddle.”

 “Something like that,” Loki offered, fiddling with the broach in his pocket.

 “Here. You should give this back to mother,” Loki pulled the diamond broach out of his pocket all the way and placed it in Thor’s shocked hand.

He inspected it, his face growing pale. It couldn’t be. You.

Loki could swear he heard the faint crackle of thunder in the air.

 With his voice raised at least ten octaves, Thor yelled at Loki.

 “Brother where in all the nine realms did you GET THIS!”

[messiahofslams]

I'm excited to put up my Christmas Village again this year but...these cats...

After finding miniature trees and things knocked over every morning and worrying about the destruction of the village i still don't have a plan on how to protect it from the giant feline menace. Anyone have any tips for keeping cats away from a display?

[zazter-den]

Im giving you leaf for the random word ask game ^_^ 🌿

🌿 PFFT, Ok, so a funny fact about me that comes to mind when it comes to 'leafy greens' is: The first time I saw weed- I thought it was a fake tree you see on miniature displays.

[Random Word Ask Game]

At 17, I got a job at this sketch dive bar/pub (the Toji's Tip one), and I had really extremely strict parents so I knew basically nothing outside their church.

So my first weekend working there, the heavily tatted/ heavily pierced fry cook gathered us before opening and took out his 2 little nuggets in a little baggy and said he was gonna have a good friday night.

And my brain went "Man, this guy is really jazzed up about those granny Christmas Villages but good for him" 🙃 I was known as the sweet summer child after that lmfao

[maryangel0908]

Paw Prints on My Heart: A Journey of Getting My First Day

by Mary Angeline T. Dalangin

Even if my parents had talked about getting me a puppy, I never actually thought that they were going to. A couple weeks later before my dad went back to work abroad, he surprised me with the best news ever - I was getting a puppy! From that moment, I couldn’t hide what I felt and imagined immediately about the endless games with my first puppy. It was like my heart started to dance because of the happiness I felt at that time. 

It was August 2012, and my family and I went to SM City. It became my favorite place because of how I was so excited to buy things for my first-ever puppy! My parents gave me the freedom to pick out all sorts of cool stuff like the squeaky toys that made the funniest noises that every puppy would love, a leash, and a very comfortable bed that would make my first puppy sleep like he’s in a fluffy cloud. Every purchase of things for him felt like I was meeting a new best friend that I would cherish forever.

The long-awaited finally arrived! It was September 2012 when we went to Danao to pick up my first-ever puppy. When my family and I got there, there was a tiny crate in the corner, and I immediately went up closer to check. I met a tiny ball of fur with eyes sparkling with happiness. I remembered he jumped right into my arms and that was the time that I knew that we were meant to be for each other. I named him Buddy because at the time I just finished watching a movie called Air Bud and I wanted to name my first dog Buddy. From that moment, he became a part of the family. 

As I was trying to get to know Buddy, I got to see him do zoomies and his morning walks every day. I was having so much time spending time with him and that was one of the best moments in my life. Every afternoon, we always go to the park near our village to get some fresh air and to meet with other dogs from our neighborhood that became Buddy’s friends. 

It was December 2012, my first Christmas with him. It was so much fun because our relatives got to meet him and I can tell that he was so happy too. As it hit midnight on December 25, he was quite scared of the fireworks displayed in our neighborhood and as a first-time pet owner, I searched for what to do and immediately comforted him by staying by his side. 

Things took a turn when Budyy got sick. He wasn’t his usual playful self. As his owner, I was really worried and couldn’t stop thinking about it. It felt like the day lost its sunshine without his morning zoomies and his happy barks. 

My family and I rushed him to the vet and I noticed that my tears welled up in my eyes as the doctors took him away from me. I got his collar in my hand like it is now my lucky charm. 

August 2013, I got the best news ever! Buddy came home and I saw him wagging his tail. I immediately hugged him and I started crying because of happiness. From that moment, I promised him to make our moments together memorable and to cherish them. 

A few months passed by, and that worried feeling returned. It was January 2014 and another trip to the vet happened. When we arrived at the veterinary hospital, the doctors tried checking up on him and left me confused about what Buddy’s condition was. A few hours later, the doctors announced that he was now in a better place. Saying goodbye to your best friend was the hardest thing to ever do. As I was holding his paws, I started crying inside the hospital and felt like my heart was breaking into a million pieces. 

As my mom was trying to comfort me, I couldn’t stop thinking about the times I spent time together with him. I will forever miss his zoomies, his morning walks, and his meet-ups with his other friends in the park near our village. 

We buried him in our backyard, I was crying as he was lying down there lifeless. The falling leaves of the trees from our backyard mingled with my tears. This is a happy and sad memory of the amazing love we shared. I will never forget him. 

[negative-speedforce]

what are your OCs favorite holiday traditions?

Siv: Used to go ice skating every year with their dad, actually got really good at it

Jay: Baking cookies

Cassandra: Would go with her dads to see The Nutcracker every year

Hailey: Giving mince pies to the elderly people of the village she grew up in

Arya: Hiding in the woods and dumping massive amounts of snow onto small children

Esme: Volunteering with a toy drive for low-income kids

Gina: Singing in the Christmas concert

Ember: Dressing up as an elf and doing a lipsync with "All I Want For Christmas is You"

Cat: Helping to do the makeup for her church's Christmas pageant

Kyle: Doing an excessive light display

Max: Letting Cat use his cat in place of an actual baby for Baby Jesus in her church's Christmas pageant so he can laugh at it squirming in the poor kid's arms and eventually escaping and clawing some old lady bc he is CHAOTIC af

Eric: Taking his kids to see The Nutcracker

Jacob: Inevitably falling to what would be his death if he didn't have magic while putting up lights

Khalil: Meeting up with the rest of the coven to celebrate the Solstice

Antonio: Going to mass and getting to stay up until midnight

Ameerah: The airing of the grievances (yes, she does in fact celebrate Festivus)

Meredith: Cooking with her adoptive family

Rania: Getting together with her family and dancing together

Reggie: Building snow forts and snowmen with her parents and granddads

Director Hawke: Decorating her office IMMACULATELY. Not a speck of dust, or the tiniest item out of place.

Kelsie: Making rangoli and displaying it in front of her house

Pippa: Decorating Christmas trees

Onnie: Getting gifts from her "business partners" bc they're all terrified of her

Jessi: Hanging up evergreen boughs and leaving offerings for her Gods

Hyun-Ki: Spending time with his family and cooking Japchae

Qiara: Does not celebrate any Earth Holidays

Marie: Going to hear the bells at the temple she grew up near rung on New Year's Eve

Liah: Dressing up with her sister to go to the masjid with her family

Soraya: Giving gifts to her family and her community

Aldrich: Going caroling

Samira: Doing Henna with her mother for Eid

Sohelia: Inviting Matt over for the Iftar (fast-breaking) meal during Ramadan

Vanessa: Dressing her gecko in a Santa Claus costume

Matt: Inviting Sohelia over for latkes because they have a special bond as the only non-Christians at the Roanoke Hunters' camp.

Dolores: Making tamales for her sisters' families

Victorie: Setting up the Nativity scene with her family

[jknerd]

CINDY LOU

Full Name: Cindy Lou Hooper

Age: 3~4

Gender: Female

Occupations: Pre-schooler

Relatives: Mr. Hooper (father; deceased), Donna B. Hooper (mother), Grinch (godfather), Drew Lou Hooper (older brother), Stu Lou Hooper (older brother), Bonnie and Betty Lou Hooper (older sisters), Martha May (godmother)

Interests: Playing house with dolls, drawing, pecan/apple pie, cookies

Character

Cindy Lou Hooper is a little girl who lives with her widowed mother and teenaged older brothers. Her mother works extra hard to provide for her family, her brothers are too busy or preoccupied with their schoolworks/girlfriends to take care of her, her older sisters are much busy with their “teenage girl stuffs” (instagramming, dating, etc) to spend time with her. Her village believes in not only Santa family’s existence, but also the Grinch’s. She become curious why they are afraid of him and why he dislike Christmas. Eventually, she encountered him at Christmas Eve, but he was stealing the tree and she asked why. Grinch simply lied that the tree was “very sick” and he wanted to heal it before returning it back. However, she was not aware that he was ruining her older siblings’ Christmas as a punishment for being a neglectful older brothers and sisters.

In Fairly Oddparents AU: Cindy Lou is described as lonely and neglected child who was to be appointed to have fairy godparent. Even before she had a fairy, she had strong belief of fairies’ existence, but doesn’t try to catch them. At one point, she was wandering in outdoor pond by the house as her babysitter was to busy to notice on her phone with someone. When Cindy Lou was fallen in a frozen pond, she was saved by the Grinch. When she encountered her godparents, Martha May and Grinch, she was elated.

In Grimm Adventures of Billie & Manny AU: Cindy Lou was babysat by Billie and Manny during Winter as her mother was too busy to take care of her. She displayed sympathy for her older sisters when they were coldly rejected by Manny, noticing how much he and Grinch resemble one another. Visiting Santa family’s toy factory, she noticed Martha May, one of the helpers, is romantically pining for Grinch. So, with Billie and Irina, she hoped to pair Martha May with Grinch. Eventually, Cindy Lou become a flower girl in their wedding.

In Courage the Cowardly Girl AU: Along with Courage, Cindy Lou had sacrificed her Christmas season to save her older siblings from Grinch’s curse. Hearing a past from Krampus,, she felt strong sympathy for Grinch, decided to give him a best Christmas present with Courage’s help; finding the relatives of orphans Grinch once lived with in his previous life. Learning of their efforts and reason, Grinch eventually lifted the curse from Cindy Lou’s siblings.

In Danni Phantom AU: Like from Fairly Oddparents AU, Cindy Lou is guarded by Grinch and Martha May. She was occasionally babysat by Danni, Tulie and Sam. She defends Grinch when some teenagers badmouthed him and with help of Daenys and Youngblood, she pull prank on Paulo, Dash, Daphne and other arrogant popular kids.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

The Vatican unveiled its annual Nativity scene earlier this evening, paying special tribute to the origins of the beloved tradition on its 800th anniversary.

The scene in St. Peter’s Square depicts not only Mary and Joseph standing beside the manger, but also St. Francis of Assisi, who organized the first Nativity scene in a cave in the Italian village of Greccio on Christmas Eve in 1223.

Cardinal Fernando Végez Alzaga, the president of the Governate of the Vatican City State, presided over the December 9 inauguration ceremony.

More than a thousand people gathered in the square for the event, which included moments of catechesis, an explanation of how the scene was put together and the signing of seasonal hymns.

The Vatican’s Greccio-inspired Nativity scene does not include live animals and people, as St. Francis’ original did, but it does feature life-size terracotta figures, crafted by renowned Neapolitan sculptor Antonio Cantone.

At the center of the scene is the now-empty manger, where a figure of the Newborn Savior will be placed on Christmas Eve.

On one side of manger, a statue of Mary kneels, flanked by a rendition of St. Joseph, while on the other side, a statue of St. Francis of Assisi stands in a pose of wonder.

In addition to the figures of Mary, Joseph, St. Francis, and the traditional ox and donkey, the 13th-century mayor of Greccio who helped organize the first Nativity scene, Giovanni Velita, is featured in statue form, along with his wife, Alticama.

Three Franciscan friars, whom St. Francis had tasked with setting up the first Nativity scene as a place where local faithful could come and contemplate the poverty of the Incarnate Lord, are also depicted.

The backdrop of the scene is a replica of the fresco that decorates the Chapel of the Nativity in Greccio, which is built into the grotto where St. Francis set up the first Nativity scene.

On one half of the fresco, the saint is shown kneeling in adoration of the Christ Child; on the other side, Mary is depicted feeding the Newborn Savior, while the figures of Joseph, the ox and the donkey look on.

Underneath the fresco, a Franciscan friar is depicted celebrating Mass in the grotto.

The friar elevates the Body of Christ directly behind the manger.

In another fitting tribute to the Nativity scene’s origins, this year’s Vatican display was provided by the Diocese of Rieti, which is where Greccio is located.

The Vatican’s Christmas tree was also lit at the December 9 ceremony.

The tree, an 80-foot-tall fir, had been donated by the Italian community of Macra, located in the northwest of Italy.

The tree was adorned with edelweiss flowers that are native to the Alpine region.

Upon lighting, it glowed with ever-changing patterns of green, blue and red.

After the tree’s use in St. Peter’s Square, its wood will be used to make toys for children in need.

Earlier in the day, Pope Francis spoke to delegations of the two communities that had donated the Nativity scene and the Christmas tree.

The Pope said that meditating in front of any Nativity scene should “awaken in us the nostalgia for silence and prayer, in our often so-hectic daily life.”

The Pope also said that the Vatican Nativity scene’s connection to Greccio should in turn prompt people to think and pray for the inhabitants of the Holy Land amid the ongoing war between Israel and Hamas, especially children and their parents affected by the conflict.

“These are the ones who pay the real price of war,” Pope Francis said.

Both the Nativity scene and the tree will remain in St. Peter’s Square until the feast of the Baptism of the Lord on 7 January 2024.

Source: National Catholic Register

Highlights: Inauguration of the Nativity scene and lighting of the Christmas tree on 9 December 2023

10 December 2023

[hiccanna-tidbits]

@jackunzel-time

Jackunzel Month Bonus Week Day 1 - Holiday Lanterns

***

...so here I was, minding my business, fully believing I could use the bonus Jackunzel month week to catch up on all the prompts I got behind on, but the bonus prompts are jUST SO GOOD??? UNFAIR I TELL YOU, UNFAIR!!! At least I got to use some leftover pics from past moodboards that I couldn’t fit in anywhere??? They may finally see the light of day!!! Bless!!! Special mention goes to the ice lanterns, the funky little snowy village street with a quaint little lamp, and Rapunzel being a shameless Basic White Girl in front of a christmas tree. I’ve always dreamed of being able to find a moodboard that required the services of these pcitures, and...well, dreams really do come true, I guess XD

ALSO very very VERY happy I found that Christmas-tree-with-lanterns pic like??? Accidentally fucking perfect for this moodboard??? The moodboard gods have smiled upon me this fine evening.

ANYWAYS I have a headcanon that these two are just. Unhealthily obsessed with christmas lights--and really holiday lights of any flavor. Like I’m betting every year around the winter holidays they make a full 3-page “Christmas lights displays we MUST see or we will COMBUST!!!” list. And honestly??? Good for them. They hit every last gotdang place on that list, while I, meanwhile, have to nag my own ass to go out and see one (1) nice christmas lights display in my city XD Listen I can’t help it, I’m a procrastinator at heart ^^;

Also, Rapunzel feels a deep and compulsive desire to try every single Starbucks winter holiday flavor available, and I will swear to that. Just thought it was important that y’all were aware.

Pic credits available upon request!

[coffeedrgn87]

December 6th Drarry Drabble: "Candles"

Tags: Godric's Hollow, Godric's Hollow Cemetery, Harry is sad and visiting his parents, Draco shows his empathy, I picture them both at 42 years of age; they're not exactly together, but there's potential (loads of it!), and a wee bit of angst, but mostly it's just Draco being a sweetheart, because yes, he totally can be one

Draco had never been to Godric’s Hollow. Still, he walked the quiet, snow-covered streets with a sense of purpose, letting his feet carry him to his destination. It helped him to remain calm. Lacy flakes drifted out of the night sky, slowly sailing to the ground. Snow threaded through the trees, frosting branches and bushes. The wind was cold, and taking his hands out of his coat pockets, Draco adjusted his collar, pulling it up and tightening it around his neck. Throughout the day, thick layers of white had accumulated on roofs, cars, and walkways, and Draco’s footprints made a path in the fresh snow as he strode towards the village’s cemetery. Draco passed discoloured pine needles and tufts of dead grass that poked up through the white. The moon was bright, sparkling off the snow in a glittering display.

A sudden gust of wind shifted the branches of a nearby tree, and snow cascaded down in a drift, nearly showering Draco with winter’s frosty blanket. Despite the cold, the air smelt fresh and crisp. It had a slightly metallic scent, and as Draco inhaled through his mouth, he noted a light ozone flavour. The soft weight of snow fell into Draco’s long, cornsilk hair, and he regretted leaving his hat behind. A powdery tickle of snow dusted his cheeks, eyebrows and lashes, and Draco found himself renewing the warming charm inside his coat pockets and shoes to stop his fingers and toes from going numb. The fresh snow made a squishing sound beneath Draco’s feet as he walked, getting closer to his destination.

Draco’s boots crunched through a crust of snow at the cemetery’s wrought iron fence. He reached for the gate, pulled it open, and stepped through. Once on the cemetery grounds, Draco felt the mood morph into something glummer. The peacefulness of the quiet, freezing winter night continued to envelop Draco, but it was now laced with heavy melancholy, which made breathing difficult.

The feeling permeated the air around Draco, and he forced himself to take several deep breaths to calm his frayed nerves. He still didn’t understand why Granger had insisted that it should be him who went to Godric’s Hollow to retrieve Potter, but nearly two and a half decades after Hogwarts, Draco still had the greatest respect for Granger (Draco refused to call it fear. That sounded weak).

Shaking the thought of Granger off, Draco glanced at the small chapel in the distance. Hundreds of candles flicked inside, illuminating the coloured window panes. Draco walked past a crooked marble headstone with a barely readable engraving, a family grave, several decorative flower beds, now covered with thick blankets of snow, and a grave with a bouquet of dried flowers and a Christmas wreath. He didn’t know who was buried there, but he still flicked his wand to breathe new life into the decorations.

An owl hooted several times, and the wind whistled through the gravestones and trees. Birds and small animals squeaked and chirped, and Draco’s boots crunched as he veered off the narrow path and passed several more graves. The metallic tang of stone clung to the air, and Draco abandoned breathing through his nose. He finally stopped Potter in front of a modest double grave. Potter sat in the thick snow, legs curled underneath him. He’d folded his gloved hands in his lap and was staring at his parents’ grave with a vacant expression in his eyes. A beautiful deep-green fir wreath rested against the Potter grave. White lilies were woven through the coniferous branches of the wreath, and several candles floated above the grave, their magical flames flickering in the frosty breeze.

For a moment, Draco didn’t know how to approach the situation. He felt like an intruder like he wasn’t meant to be here. Part of him wanted to escape, wanted to leave Potter to his grief, but something kept him rooted to the spot, and that was Potter turning his head and looking up at him.

“She sent you, didn’t she?” he asked, his voice thick. It pierced Draco’s heart, making it ache something fierce.

He nodded.

Potter huffed a hollow laugh. His breath formed clouds of white vapour that rose into the night sky and disappeared.

“Bothersome meddler.”

“If it helps, I tried getting out of it.”

“Clearly, my best friend had the better argument. Was it another slap?”

“Hilarious, Potter.”

“What? You can’t deny she made an impact that first time.”

“Will you let it rest already?”

“Never, Malfoy, it’s one of the few things that still make you squirm.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Yes, and I wish it wouldn’t. Can I join you?”

Potter lifted a brow, looking at him with a curious expression.

“You want to sit in the snow with me?”

Draco shrugged. Instead of answering the question, he sat beside Potter and drew his wand to cast a gentle bubble of warmth around them. Potter relaxed visibly, and Draco offered him a sheepish smile.

“Doesn’t get any easier, does it?” he asked.

Potter shook his head. He turned his head to stare at the headstone, and taking his chances, Draco leant forward and squeezed Potter’s hand to offer comfort.

“I miss them most just before Christmas,” Potter said without looking at him.

“I’d like to say that I can imagine what it feels like, but I can’t.”

Potter looked at him.

“Your father—” he began.

Draco shook his head.

“I’d like to say that he was a doting dad, but he wasn’t. Mother says he was smitten with me when I was a baby, but I don’t know whether it’s the truth or her version of events, something for her to cling to when she’s feeling lonely. I feel nothing when I visit his grave, just relief, but for my mother’s sake, I listen to the stories and smile. Anything for her.”

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Draco nodded.

“I do. She did what she could to make things better for me. Sure, she wasn’t perfect, but hey, none of us is, right?”

Potter inclined his head.

“My dad— Well, he was a bit of a dick at school, and mum gave him the cold shoulder for ages because of it. I think he changed his ways because he knew that mum would never get with him otherwise. I mean, my godfather was hardly the best influence. It was either that or Remus gave him a good bollocking at some point.”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“I think you’d give anything for just one Christmas with them.”

“How’d—”

Draco waved the question off before Potter could finish asking it.

“I can’t give you a Christmas with your parents, but I have a warm flat and a bottle of well-aged Firewhiskey I’m willing to share if you want to tell me more about your parents?”

“I don’t know much about them,” Potter said after a beat.

Draco shrugged.

“We can also play Exploding Snap if you’d like me to take your mind off things.”

Potter’s laugh made Draco’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Exploding Snap?” he asked.

Draco nodded.

“I would prefer Wizarding Chess, but since I’ll just beat your sorry arse, I thought I’d suggest something more up your alley.”

Potter rolled his eyes.

“Very funny, Malfoy.”

“You laughed.”

“I did. A heck with it, let’s do it. If I stay any longer, I’ll get frostbite.”

“I could say something inappropriate now, but I’ll refrain.”

“By all means, Malfoy, knock yourself out.”

Draco shook his head.

“Nah, let me get some alcohol down your hatch first.”

“You know, perhaps it’s a bit out there, but we could also try first names….”

“Must I? Potter has a nice ring to it.”

“Harry isn’t bad either; you could try it, at least.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Fine, if you insist.”

Peeling himself off the ground, Draco stood up, stretched his legs, and offered Potter a helping hand.

“Harry?”

“Draco.”

They shared a knowing look, and then Draco wound his arm around Potter’s and apparated them away.

[thatonceandfutureprat]

Went to a giant gardening centre (Intratuin) and I sometimes wonder if they realise that there’s other holidays than Christmas.

You walk in and it’s Christmas bouquets and vases. Then there’s all the trees, a few miniature villages and all the stuff you need to make it at home.

Then there’s maybe 10 meters of autumn stuff with a tiny nod at Hallowe’en. Then some actual garden plants.

Christmas clothing and a roundabout for the kids. Coffee corner for the bored parents.

Animal food but, in case you forgot, a giant display is Christmas animatronics (where I quietly thought to myself “the next person pressing the start button is getting the mini pumpkin I have to the face.” And of course a 4 year old happily smashes the button like there’s no Christmas tomorrow).

Got the fish supplies I needed and walked into a jungle Christmas theme, followed by Disney ornaments, followed by clothing and then all the Christmas candles and lights.

Then FINALLY some more plants and, as a final goodbye, more last minute Christmas ornaments bc you’ve only got 2 months left to decorate and also celebrate other holidays (two I think? Halloween (kids like it here, more and more people actually do this) and Sinterklaas (which is finally but still slowly becoming inclusive and not racist, we love to see it (and racists that refuse change get pelted in the face with kruidnoten).

That said, my head is buzzing bc it was more input than I can currently handle and I’ll be hearing Feliz Navidad for the rest of the day.